Essenza Del Lupo
by birobird93
Summary: Rosalie is left wondering where her loyalties lie. Is it possible to find love more than once? And if so, can it be found in a natural enemy? It is time to hear the voice behind the beauty; AU, Canon Couples except for one RATED M-lemons. R
1. Captivated and Illuminated

Essenza Del Lupo~

_Everyone is doing their Story titles in different languages now, I thought I'd join the craze._

_AU- Personalities will be somewhat different, especially Rosalie's. Canon couples, except for one. No humans, except for Bella._

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Preface:

"Now, now; don't be like that!" Emmett guffawed into the face of one rabid looking elk.

I sighed with my chin in my palm, watching from a few yards away, perched on my rock.

Winter was rearing it's head signalling the close to another year; something inconsequential to a Vampire, however. I worried my lip with my razor teeth, unable to break my own marble-like skin.

My husband enjoyed the simpler things in life, hunting and playing; he stayed unswervingly true to his real lifetime, a resident of the 40s. I loved him, as much as I could love Emmett. It was simple, our life together--comfortable, spare for the lacklustre stretch of days circling around our immobile lives that left me feeling bored and--although not possible--withered.

"Breakfast of champions." He grinned, striding up to me with the limp, furry animal in his ogre grasp.

I grimaced and shook my head in amusement.

"Nothing like some fresh blood to sooth the soul, is there?" I murmured, my eyes wandering again.

I imagined, as I often did, what life would be like without my partner; my life mate. It concerned me that I could see a future as such so easily. I had prayed for a relationship, a marriage, full of depth and mutual understanding. I understood Emmett perfectly; the problem was that is was too easy.

He worked through life with a constant smile on his face; a feature of himself he shared with me and that sometimes brought happiness out in me, too. I don't know if I was being selfish or if I craved drama, but I couldn't help my moods from fluctuating when it came to Emmett. At some points I would love him more than anything just for being him, but at other points, which occurred more frequently these days, I would find myself wishing for more.

The problem was that he would only see skin-deep with me.

He thought I was beautiful, he thought I was stubborn and pickheaded. He didn't know that I felt isolated sometimes; only Edward knew that, but he had the advantage of telepathy and tried his hardest to ignore it, especially if it came from my direction.

Emmett had only scratched the surface. He hadn't realised after over six decades with me, that there wasn't simply my looks about me, nor the personality I possessed in the presence of others.

He never asked.

I felt like I always ended up where I started.

"What's up Rosie?" he asked, percieving my distracted attitude.

I sighed long and heavy before moving lithely to my feet and nudging the dead elk with the toe of my boot. It's long, pink, grotesque tongue lolled out of it's mouth. I could smell it's breath; awful.

But it's heart was silent and it barely held any appeal when it was fresh. The blood would have cooled, infinitesimally, but enough to make the taste even worse. Deciding against more food, I took Emmett's hand listlessly and allowed my legs to carry me swiftly back home.

I didn't want or need perfection.

What I wanted was intensity and passion, more so than just physical gratification. But for some reason, that also remained in short supply. Emmett certainly sated my needs in that prospect, thankfully, or I'd have surely gone insane by now, but the metaphysical facet of lovemaking. The deep down-to-your-bones need for that person. Sadly, I couldn't seem to find it in Emmett.

Arriving home in our usually obtuse manner, Emmett stomped unnecesarily through the living room. The spotless, precise state of the house left little to the imagination to a commoner, not that we had many visitors that didn't belong to the supernatural faction. It felt so inhuman, much like the creatures that lived within the walls, but as if nothing resided inside at all.

It held little personality, spare for Edward's enormous piano off to the corner. I had wanted to learn for a long time now, noticing the solace my brother took while he composed and played for Esme and Bella. I felt like a distant soul in their company. I didn't matter half as much to them as they did to eachother.

I was the sullen sister; the one who was always so full of herself.

Edward knew who I was, really, but he dare not delve to deeply or he'd find himself in tremendous trouble.

And then there was also the fact that he and I could NEVER be romantically involved. I hardly saw him that way and he'd found his mate anyway. Alternatively, I could move away from the telepath, the second one in the entire world, and live alone for a few decades.

But Carlisle reassured me I was vital to our little coven, too.

I was tenacious. I rolled my eyes.

And pushing aside my puruit of self-discovery--how cliche for a never-aging Vampire--Emmett wouldn' be too pleased with the idea of me leaving him at home. I simply couldn't handle having him there while I tried to search for myself. It would defeat the purpose of leaving home in the first place.

I needed to understand where I was going, and what I was doing with this limitless life of mine.

If I had any reason to keep it.

At times, it seemed futile.

Had I been back to my selfish, human self--I would have enjoyed the prospect of living forever, of meeting a man like Emmett.

But the naivety of being human had long since disappeared from my mind and I now I realise the real meaning of immortality.

What the price was.

I was living an unnatural half-life; and I found myself thinking the way Edward occassionally does--thinking our existence an abomination, against the laws of nature.

If I was given this opportunity, why couldn't it have turned out better? Was I still waiting for fulfillment and would I have to find it with my own hands? Or was I being ungrateful?

If so, I couldn't help it.

* * *

The days followed monotonously and without many interesting events to dwell on.

Thursday preceeded Wednesday and then it somehow reached the next week, which molded into the subsequent month of November.

How time passed so fleetingly, yet somehow always painfully slow. Some days were exactly like others and I began to wander off on tangents for weeks at a time.

A significant anniversary loomed on the horizon, however, which shadowed the mediocrity of my average life.

The date I was changed--it was early December.

I sat on the white leather sofa, counting the pixels in the television screen and mulling over how that day could have gone so differently. I did not realise then, that today would begin a chain reaction of events--destiny, Carlisle would like to label it--that would have nothing to do at all with the connotation of my transformation all those years ago.

I was alone in the house apart from Esme, my feet propped lazily ontop of the glass coffee table. The wind shifted direction suddenly and the house was hit with a waft of something predominantly animalistic. I scrunched my nose up, not in distaste but in curiosity as the smell became stronger. Esme appeared at the front door, but her face held a subtle look of revulsion. I didn't find the scent _that_ repugnant, but apparrently she did.

Sounds drifted on the wind, paired with the woodsy, furry smell; I stood up in preparation as Esme so willingly opened the door to the foreign scent.

Voices, deep and husky.

"The wolves are here," Esme declared.

Ah--understanding; I had never encountered the wolves, personally. The day the Cullen's created the treaty with them, I had been inclined to stay home from hunting and missed the following agreement they arranged.

Wolves were natural enemies to Vampires.

One, dark-skinned body jogged up the driveway, surprisingly fast for a half-breed. I assumed he was here on business. He made it, finally, up the porch steps and onto the landing, clad in cut-off denim shorts and nothing else.

His muscular chest and arms drew my eyes as I walked hesitantly to Esme's side. I folded my arms across my chest, indicating that I wasn't into making buddies with the mutt.

My eyes finally made it to the top of his head, which dominated the door frame, towering at least two and a half feet above my own head. It was disconcerting, to say the least.

"Is Bella here?" he enquired grudgingly.

"No, dear, she's with Edward," Esme answered cordially.

His mouth became a hard line. I assumed they were in their meadow and this boy didn't seem too happy about it, either.

"This won't take long," he muttered, striding past us to walk inside.

He looked around a bit before turning back to us. Esme closed the door behind me and I stared dubiously at the man-child, feet covered with dirt, his jet-black hair mussed and unevenly cut.

His eyes beared a bitter resentment of sorts, an unusual quality in one so young. For some reason it made me pity him. He'd obviously had no choice in his future, just the same as me.

"Our pack has been scouting the area around the Swan's house for weeks, there has been no further leads as to the red-headed blood sucker's location," he stated, I hissed menacingly.

He smirked and carried on.

"I think it would be appropriate if you let us take a look around your side..._properly."_

I shared a look with Esme.

"So, that means you have to butt the hell out and let us do our job while we help you kill this bitch."

Esme shot him a disapproving look; it was so like Esme to do that, even if the kid was a mutant.

"We don't take orders from a pack of dogs." I shot out, levelling my gaze with his.

"Get with the program, leech," he sneered.

"You called for _our_ help--you either take it and give us right of way or we leave you to deal with this shit." he took a dangerous step closer.

Something inside me sparked; like two rocks colliding, striking one another to create a kindling. Witholding a gasp, I took a step back, fisting my hands and glaring.

He chuckled and winked condescendingly.

"Enough, you two--Jacob, thank you for passing the message on, I'll be sure to tell the others." Esme said softly, smiling maternally at the dog.

I sighed reluctantly.

"Don't forget to inform your _pack_ leader." I sneered.

He stopped just a foot away from me, his smirk faltering and forming into a frown, creasing his forehead and casting his heavy brown eyes into shadow under his brows.

His voice, formerly layered with a deep loathing and distrust, came out unsure and wary.

"I will." his eyes tightened minisculely.

I found myself wanting his trust.

And with a curt nod in Esme's direction and a puzzled scowl at me; he broke into a run the minute his feet hit the gravel outside.

I was bewildered and yet...intrigued.

Could a bond form and bloom from a seed of hostility?


	2. Meet and Greet

Essenza Del Lupo~

_Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. These chapters will be short in future._

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I _hated_ holidays. There was something about the cheery fakeness of the season that brought about a spur of repulsion in me.

It was possible I was just a bitter person, and by default, hated anything to do with Christmas. The tradition sparked life in my other family members, a spark I didn't truly understand. Surely they'd grown tired of the annual wearisomeness.

I was perched in my usual loveseat by the roaring fire; for display purposes only, while Esme and Bella decorated the Christmas Tree--a pine plucked specifically from our backyard.

Esme was constantly chattering away while Bella continually blushed and grinned; I couldn't even find the motivation to keep rolling my eyes at her, for some reason, Edward thought it was endearing.

I just thought she had a blood pressure problem.

And she was constantly dropping our priceless glass ornaments; Esme tsked her and promised they were replacable while Edward and her shared grimaces and cringed every time she fumbled with one.

I sighed dejectedly as I stared at them enjoying the mundane festivities.

They laughed and smiled at eachother, both couples shared the ocassional kiss and it was difficult not to feel jealous. Emmett was watching football in our bedroom while I sat bored and absent-minded, staring blankly at the little congregation in the living room.

Alice sat in the opposite corner, closest to the hall and the front door; she was humming quietly to herself with her nose buried in a book.

Jasper was sitting on the floor at her feet, his head resting against her knees, playing with the television remote.

I chewed on the inside of my cheek before standing up.

"I suppose it's my turn to take over the shift for Carlisle; I'm sure he'll want to come back to help decorate..." I trailed off in a flat voice, not expecting any objection.

I was sure they were as tired of the tedium of my sour attitude as I was of their chipperness.

"Come now, wouldn't you like to help?" Esme offered with a shining smile.

I smiled half-heartedly and shook my head.

"Bella seems to be enough help for the two of you." I smirked, striding out of the room, practically sensing Bella's blush.

I broke into a brisk run once I hit the grass outside, my feet leaving no marks on the meticulously cut lawn. I may as well have been brushing a feather across the surface of the ground; no noise followed the steps of my feet, clad in purple fuck-me pumps.

My favourtie pair, which were probably not the greatest footwear to be donning in the wilderness of the Olympic range. But, I digress, they were exceptionally sexy.

I crossed the wide river running approximately one mile from the back of our house, jumping in a high arc over the rush of water and landing lithely on the other side. I circled the area for a little then made my way towards the suburban area of Forks. It was two days before Christmas and we lived in a fraction of North America where the it snowed heavily for extended periods.

My hair, curly and long, billowed against my face and head as I sped through the expanse of trees, the forest thinning out as I encroached on housing estates. I could smell Carlisle, pacing leisurely, a few yards into the woods at the back of Bella's house.

There hadn't been any signs of Victoria lately, but that didn't stop our precious human pet from freaking out about her father, so we all agreed to keep watch on him--it was only logical. She was right in the aspect that Victoria could return to Forks, looking for Bella in her own home and stumble across Charlie. She could either use him as bait or leverage, or kill him for being associated with her.

I supposed it wouldn't be fair if we let her go through such turmoil.

After all, I had nothing better to do with my time. Protecting the chief of police without his knowledge was a cake-walk.

I slowed down a little, Carlisle's scent was becoming stronger and thicker. I found him, walking back and forth with his eyes closed.

"I'll take over from here," I murmured as he opened his eyes, already aware of my approach.

"Are you sure? You don't want to stay home with everyone else, Rosalie?" he offered congenially and I shook my head again, declining.

"No, I'm fine. You go home, Esme misses you." I told him and his eyes glowed.

He gave me a affectionate pat on the shoulder before zooming out of range, disappearing into the white, snow-induced haze that had settled throughout the forest.

I crossed my arms over my chest and began to pace, copying Carlisle's posture and technique. I would be able to hear someone's approach from a mile away. I imagined Carlisle shaking the snow flakes from his golden hair, slinging his icy jacket on the back of a dining room chair and embracing his wife tenderly while joining the others in their warm, loving little abode.

I felt like such an outsider.

I wanted to run away, somewhere where no-one could follow me or rub their happiness in my face, no matter how unintentional the gesture. They all assumed I was happy, too. And, I should be, but I wasn't.

Was it so wrong to crave more?

_Snap._

My head snapped up to the sound of an animal's feet crunching across bare twigs and bracken, then the trudging throught the patchy snow that sprinkled the ground, the fall of the white flakes hindered by the dense canopy above me.

The small frozen droplets swirled around my face as I whipped it around in each direction.

I recognized the smell then as it drifted to my sensitive nose on the wind.

_North,_

I waited, staring to my left for the creature to appear.

_Wolves._

The smell was distinctly canine_. _

Soft, large, brown eyes pierced through mine as the giant dog stepped out from behind a fir tree; fur matted and dirty with snow dotting the russet strands.

It walked closer, hackles raised and teeth bared while I remained still and trusting.

He must have realised I wasn't a threat; his lips covered his teeth and his eyes widened, his ears flattening against his head as if in apology. I raised both hands in acknoweledgment and to communicate my neutrality.

I dropped them slowly to my sides as he pawed his way closer, dodging a moss covered log. He raised himself onto his hind legs, stretching to his full height.

Recognition flowed through me once again; if I was being honest with myself, I knew who the wolf was once his eyes met mine.

I reached timidly out to touch the fur of his chest, unable to restrain myself from acting out my bizarre urges.

It looked straw-like and rough but it felt surprisingly soft to my fingertips. What was more surprising however, was the fact that he was letting me get this close to him without attacking. It was something ingrained in both our species--how can that be reversed through a mere one-time meeting?

Intrigued, I took a tentative step closer, which proved to be too much for him, he took an affronted step in the opposite direction.

Biting my lip and swallowing my anxiety, I approached him again, slower.

It was akin to feeding a dangerous animal; in any other circumstance, the animal could not hurt me, but this particular kind could.

Why did _this_ wolf--the most disinclined to associate with Vampires in the whole pack--tolerate _me_? My smell must be completely overpowering to him in addition to the fact that it was known I loathed _them_ as much as they loathed me.

His long body arched, his front legs stretching foreward across the ground as he loosened his muscles and sat down before me like an obediently trained house dog.

I frowned but smiled in spite of myself.

His mouth opened, revealing a long, blindingly white row of jagged teeth--the kind that could rip a Vampire's body apart. It was unnerving, but so was everything about him.

His tongue lolled out of the side of his jaw.

I laughed.

"What are you doing here?" I whispered, eyes narrowed, not in suspicion but in curiosity.

I couldn't see why he would want to gain my trust and then betray it; after all, we were alone together and I was vulnerable in this position. But I still couldn't see a threat.

He also didn't seem that formidable. The worst kind of enemy was one that worked from the inside out; the one that gained love and adoration from their prey then exploit the trust they had procured. I doubted _Jacob _would stoop to that kind of manipulation; I also doubted he had the patience to make 'buddy-buddy' with a couple of Vamps, before he decided to destroy them.

_Usually_, Vampires wouldn't pledge reliance on wolves, either.

It wasn't often that you found a coven such as Carlisle's--a group of 'vegitarians' for lack of a better term, who hadn't stayed the savage monsters they were meant to become, and ones that created truces with other monsters.

I didn't feel anything to fear or hate, or distrust.

He made an incomprehensible whining noise, cocking his head to the side.

He stood up then and I flinched, taking a step back. I let out a startled breath as he rose to his full height once more. But then he turned away and I felt stung.

"Wait!" I called, panicked--for no valid reason at all as he broke into a run, lost among the whiteness surrounding us.

I let my hand fall to my side, losing the only feeling of excitement I had felt in years.

"Don't go," I breathed, although I knew he probably didn't hear or want to listen.

So, I was shocked when he reappeared, but in a more human form.

I took a cautious step back but planted my feet determinedly. His eyes were smaller, but large on his face, they showed his Native American lineage, the same blood that gave him his supernatural genes.

"Relax." he muttered, looking awkward and uncertain.

He was acting quite intrepid.

"You're being so..._audacious." I hissed, disbelieving._

He squared his shoulders, taking it as an insult. I shook my head quickly.

"I mean, why are you here? Alone?" I interrogated.

I scanned my eyes over his six foot tall frame; tanned skin and muscular torso, athletic legs sheathed in flimsy denim shorts, the preferred choice of clothing it seemed, or more convenient.

I flitted them back to his eyes, the eyes that carried more burdens than they should.

"I was scouting...everyone else is at home, enjoying the _holidays,_" he rolled his eyes.

I bit my lip, aware of the sharp pang of kinship searing through my chest, a long forgotten feeling of empathy and fondness present there, swelling and growing. I couldn't let myself want...or trust. Not an enemy.

"I, uh...I don't like being around them." he finished lamely, scratching the back of his head.

"Aren't you cold?" I asked, severing the awkward silence.

"We don't get cold." he said patiently.

He shook his hair out, the black darkened even further from the dampness in the air. The ice melted the moment it came into contact with his skin. Another step towards me left us with little space between us.

I felt my body jolt in reaction; I wasn't used to this.

"I shouldn't..." I began, not knowing what I was going to say, what excuse I was trying to give.

He looked suspicious.

"You don't like wolves, do you? We're beneath you, is that it?" he demanded, eyes blazing.

"You don't like vampires!" I retorted, burnt.

He lost his fire and had the decency to look ashamed. But his eyes narrowed once again, his adam's apple bobbing as he gulped. He shook his head, as if to shake off a memory or image.

"See you round, Blondie," he mumbled, aloof.

I stood there; wondering why the fuck I'd had a petting session with a werewolf.

"Goodbye...Jacob."


	3. Repeated

Essenza Del Lupo~

_Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight.  
_

* * *

It was a relief to have my head cleared of my increasing unease from that...what would I call it?

_Encounter?_

Unease caused by his mere presence, of his subdued tension around _me_, Rosalie! The least of all Vampires he should have his guard down around. I was constantly descibed as the most volatile of our coven.

Edward would hone in around second on the hate list.

I suspected it was only his relationship with Bella--someone standing on the moon could see Jaob was in love with the human.

It was curious, when Edward developed such a profound interest in her and began to build his life around her own, so fragile in comparison. And then it was like she had existed for eternity; the most important element _ever._

_He'd found his counterpart. His mate._

So, naturally, he was extremely competitive and posessive of her around the wolves.

Namely, Jacob Black.

The would-be Apha, so he described, smirking in satisfaction at his meagre secondary rank. Apparently he turned it down, which only baffled me. Who would stand down the chance for authority? It always seemed to be his forte, to rule, to lead.

Why not grapple at the opportunity?

It was those thoughts that disturbed me the most, more so than the mere fantasies about a second chance meeting in the woods; the thoughts about _caring_ about those thoughts.

It was a dangerous descent into the unknown. Deep, formidable desires awaited me in that abyss. But by that point, I was almost certain I didn't care how dark or unpredicatble these foreign emotions were. I wanted them.

They were curing the monotony.

However, there was the daily guilt battle that ensued whenever I looked at Emmett. I knew I loved him; but that love wasn't what I previously assumed it was. And so I was overcome with shame of feeling less for the man that loved me so heartily in return and the fear of hatred for what I knew would soon bloom into a betrayal on my behalf.

I stood in Carlisle's library, tending to the shelves of barely touched books, volumes of medical journals occupied the entire Southern wall, behind Carlisle's enormous desk. The rest ranged from classic victorian romance novels to modern day fantasy. I indulged in _Harry Potter_, and needless to say, I was mortified by that interest.

Edward was the only one who knew, as he knew mostly about everything. It was a curse. But I knew in my heart I would never trade my brother for someone less exhausting.

_He _also knew this and never failed in reminding me of how soft I truly was.

Alice, the subdued, tender-hearted nymph, was perusing a thick, hard back copy of _The Nicomachean Ethics_. The book looked to be bigger than half her body and yet she had it spread open on her lap like a purring cat, stroking pages in awe and wonder.

Other than her basic eccentricities, Alice never ceased to surprise me with her love of philosophy. I supposed it should be expected that the psychic vampire is a fan of Aristotle. I would argue that his theories clashed with her very own existence, but she would pour over his work like it was a religion.

I stared around aimlessly, not particularly interested in something to read; secretly desperate to stretch my legs on a spontaneous hunting trip perhaps...

New Years was the second most dreaded tradition in all the year. I was pining for a reprieve that would not come, but instead had the torture amplified by the happiness everyone else shared, the love and adoration Emmett exuded that sadly, I could not reciprocate.

Why?

Because it was docking in another harbour.

But, I had to constantly ask myself: Where is this misplaced infatuation going?

Surely, due to century-long hatred and war between two kinds, there is no possible chance for reconnection? For understanding?

Alliance?

I decided to leave Alice to her own devices, but before I cleared the doorway, her head tilted in my direction. She finished the sentence she was reading and looked up at me.

"So..." she launched.

I sighed and plopped down on the couch on the opposite wall.

I sensed a Spanish Inquisition. I represented the unfortunate, native South Americans.

"Yes?" I started off lightly, innocently.

"I know what you're going through." she murmured simply, already knowing just the right tender spot to prod.

"You don't." I replied, with much the same volume and vagueness.

She nodded slowly, not in agreement; as if she saw my answer. _Of course_ she did.

"Now don't build a wall around yourself," she warned, setting her book down and closing it, resembling Carlisle with her softness.

"I've seen you tip-toeing around futures for a while now."

My eyes narrowed and my nostrils flared.

"How long? And why have you been spying on me?" I demanded, cut.

"I don't chose what I see, you know that," she explained boredly.

"And it's been since you met him."

I ground my teeth and looked away.

"Emmett, Rosie; he's going to be..._devastated._" she stressed.

I let my eyes fall to my lap, my fingers tightly closed around eachother. If I had something between my palms, it would have been quickly pulverised.

"You don't understand how I've agonised over that part for weeks," I muttered, sighing dejectedly.

Alice sighed along with me, pushing the chair back from the desk; I half expected her to push a pair of glasses up her nose, like she was analyising me the way a parental figure would.

She sauntered over to me and propper herself on the arm of the leather sofa. She twirled a lock of my hair between her fingers before speaking in her tender sister-like manner.

"You're right; I don't know what you're feeling. I have no idea, but I know what you're _doing_." she murmured.

I locked eyes with her, she needed to hunt; only a miniscule ring of amber circled her pupils, the rest of her iris had faded to black.

"There are some things you don't know, either..." she continued cryptically.

"But basically: You've fallen out of love with him. And you're teetering on the edge of something so deep and tempremental that it could all go spiralling catastrophically out of control."

I stared at her.

"Thanks," I mumbled sarcastically.

She smiled apologetically, not an uncommon expression when she predicted a harsh truth you wanted to avoid hearing.

"So...you know? Everything?"

"Of course not; I don't _see_ everything, Rosalie. I only know minor things...but..."

I sat upright and watched her face intently, scanning for any hesitation or bluffing.

"Jacob Black." she whispered and shrugged.

I lifted my chin and didn't say anything.

"Seriously, Rosie? A..." she lowered her voice, below human volume and only loud enough so that it was audible to me alone.

"A _werewolf?"_ she shook her head.

My throat tightened around a lump lodged there. I was going against everything and everyone.

What would my family think of me now?

Especially if I pursued this.

"I don't suppose you can tell me if I'll be alright? If anyone will hate me?" I asked, no hope at all in my voice.

She shook her head sadly with eyes that said: 'I'm so glad I'm not you right now'.

I nodded.

"I didn't think so."

"Yes, but you haven't decided what you're going to do. You're undecided and the flickering possibilities are driving me mad, by the way," she scowled.

"And since you haven't made a choice, a concrete one; to do this, to actually _do any of this_... I simply cannot see anyone's reaction."

"And Emmett's?" I asked dubiously, she told me before he'd be devastated.

"That's out of experience, sis, and knowledge of the present. Nothing to do with what I've seen. Anyone, psychic or not, could foretell how _your husband_ is going to react."

I cringed.

She flitted gracefully back to her chair; a dismissive gesture, like a college professor, waving their student out of their office.

I gave her an ungrateful nod of the head. Nothing she said really helped, it only made me feel worse about it all.

About Jacob.

* * *

"Turn around honey," I heard Emmett's whisper in my ear, his lips grazing my lobe.

I sighed and plastered a fake smile on my mouth before I spun around in his arms.

"Where's my midnight kiss?" he asked playfully, flashing a devilish grin before planting his mouth on mine.

I returned it out of affection (even if it was the wrong kind) and the fact that I felt I owed him everything he wanted if I was willing to take it away soon.

The whole family stood around the baseball field. Esme had, out of some long-lost adoration of tradition for the New Year, brought with her some party hats, party poppers and yards of fairy lights wrapped around the clearing.

There were cheers and laughter around us as everyone indulged in each other's company, enjoying the prospect of new beginnings. If, after so many New Years, my vampire clan thought resolutions and opportunities suddenly arose after December thirty-first, they were more blinded than I thought.

Maybe it was optimism--some of which I was lacking at the moment.

Perhaps only good things came to them because they only _thought_ of good things? But that couldn't be true. I'm sure Carlisle always tried to think on the lighter side, the silver lining around a dark tornado cloud, and yet we still had problems like Victoria.

Emmett's hand cupped my cheek as he cocked his head to the side, his lips moving slow and leisurely. He parted my lips with his own and gradually let his tongue slip inside my mouth. My hand, out of habit, reached behind his head, my fingers gripping his hair and curling around it as he explored.

It was natural. It was what I was used to.

"Alright, lovers!" Esme crowed, laughing under Carlisle's arm wrapped over her shoulders.

"Break it up!" Carlisle chuckled.

I rolled my eyes at them while Emmett grinned stupidly. I smiled genuinely; those were the expressions I lived for. The ones that I hoped would return to his face after I'd damaged him. It was a disconcerting feeling, _knowing_ I was going to hurt him without any way around it.

I didn't want to hurt him, didn't want to wreck him; I would have to try beyond my capabilities to prevent that.

"Let's go home." he whispered huskily.

I nodded. Alice and Edward caught my eye as we turned to say goodbye. They shared a loaded glance while their other halves were preoccupied and stared back at me, a mixture of disapproval and sombreness in their eyes. I shook my head infinitesimally.

_Don't look at me like that._ I directed at Edward.

His mouth twitched and he shook his head too, returning his full attention to Bella who was slumped tiredly into his side.

Jasper began twirling Alice in elegant swirls over the grass, forgetting about us. Emmett and I ran home, before our feet entered the living room, he was kissing me again, more edgily and passionate this time. But still with the softness that was Emmett.

He smiled against my lips, his tongue plunging into my mouth more brazenly before he picked me up off of the floor, wrapping my legs around his waist. He carried me up to our bedroom and dropped me on the bed. It was ungraceful but it was always this way. I wasn't fragile, not physically, and I couldn't break so there was no need for ease.

I pulled his shirt off and threw it over his shoulder. He tore my blouse from my body, a thin white cotton one. My favourite. I leaned forward so he could unclasp my bra. My hair tickled my bare back as he gently laid me back down; he could be mild when he wanted.

I lifted my hips into the air as he unzipped them and the flew to the other side of the room. Ripping my panties off was the usual. I leant forward and he caught my nipple in his mouth. I gasped and shuddered. All these sensations felt the same.

I still adorned my pumps, but I know how Emmett liked to keep them on while we had sex, so I used the narrow heels to prise his jeans down his hips. It worked and as he quickly stood up to step out of them, he shed his boxers too, leaving him completely bare in front of me.

I still felt fully clothed though, as if there were some parts he couldn't get to.

Like I had closed them off.

I brushed it off, and focussed. I would give my husband whatever he wanted, no matter how hard it got for me to do.

He was hard and read for me. I was aroused and breathing unevenly. Like I said, this was the same as always. But I didn't doubt there had always been something absent.

I only just realised it now.

He crawled up my body, licking his tongue over my skin, tasting and nibbling as I laughed, laborously.

He circled his tongue around my navel then up to my breasts, sucking on each nipple, taking his time as I scratched my nails up and down his muscled back. He wasted no time in letting his hand wander down between my thighs, testing to see if I was ready for him.

It was bizarre, that we could still maintain physical relationships; Vampire to Vampire, or in Edward and Bella's case (though I doubt they had tried) Vampire to Human.

Vampires, even though their bodies experienced no changes except for 'The Shift' when they found their soul mates, we could still experience the thrill of sex. My body reacted to his, and his to mine.

I was moist and he was hard.

He licked his fingers and I moaned. He grinned before kissing me fully on the mouth, hovering over my body and settling between my spread legs. He lowered easily and slid inside.

I groaned; always the same, always the same.

I knew what to expect, the pleasure, the peak.

And so it went that way, as I knew it would; he rocked slow to begin with until he couldn't any longer and began to increase his pace. I cried for more until he gave it to me and I found my release as he found his right behind me.

I clung to him until he rolled off of me and grinned. He left me on the bed to clean up.

That was how it always went.

I sighed and sat up, my hair falling loosely into my face. It was messy from Emmett's hands and my soft thrashing. I ran a weary hand through it, for once, not really caring if it looked less than presentable. I stood up and moved to the clear glass window, acting like a wall-sized painting of the Olympic range right in our backyard.

The moon was bright and it was a new year.

2010.

I pressed my palms to the glass as I heard the water running in our bathroom, the light escaping the crack under the door.

I watched the moon and tried to see something other than the big brown eyes that stared back.

Now, was it my imagination, or did I hear a heart wrenching howl resound through the forest?

Pain and anguish tucked into each other; the sound of betrayal.


	4. Sweet Disdain

Essenza Del Lupo

_Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight._

* * *

Naked. Bare. Vulnerable.

I backed away from the gut-wrenching howl resounding through the forest outside the house. The wailing echoed off the stone walls of rocks, through the cavernous expanse of trees and into the dimly lit backyard.

The sky looked clear, save for a few scant clouds hovering just shy of the moon, giving it a berth and arcing around it's outline as if they'd been warned to keep a distance. The glow that descended over the trees illuminated the green of the leaves, causing the barely noticeable yellow and red glint in the foliage to stand out like fluorescent bulbs.

Muttering a surprised curse, I backed into the bed, my knees hitting the edge of the mattress. Eyes as sharp as a hawk's, I saw the tops of the trees shake as if something had shunted against it, a boulder, another tree..._an animal_...

My body felt slack and used. I was exhausted suddenly and took another glum, fervent look at the inviting bed I sat on, wishing more than anything at the moment that I could just sleep...lose myself to another world that was entirely my own...

No intrusions.

I closed my eyes, willing the noise to stop. It was unbearable and I felt something fracture inside of my chest like the shock of cold glass cracking when in sudden contact with heat. Little splinters of that tempered glass embedded itself into my heart, lying in wait, like a slowly moving bullet crawling through my non-existent blood, aimed at my no-longer pumping life force.

But it wasn't what sustained me anymore.

When something else happened, the glass would dig deeper and pierce. But for now, it would provide a sting, a constant ache; a morbid, cruel reminder that I was already jumping from the edge and everyone left at the top would feel my pain when I hit the bottom if no-one caught me before I did.

When I faced either man—one more boy, than man—I would haemorrhage from the pain and guilt.

I let out a shuddering gust of air, barely understanding the cry from the forest.

I nervously fingered the coverlet, tangled and hanging off the side of the bed from our antics. The sight would have usually made me smile in fondness of our shared experience. Right now, though, it seemed to constrict like a suffocating film over my lungs. I bent over at the waist, hugging my stomach. I hoped Emmett was taking his time; he didn't need to see this.

If he did, the natural curiosity would make him ask questions. I wasn't ready for the truth to be unfolded just yet. I was getting used to reality myself; I couldn't handle explaining something I barely understood.

I resignedly toed my heels off and kicked them away, feeling the soft, plush carpet under my soles. Craning my neck back to the window, I wondered if he was still there, but when there was silence and the feeling of absence lingered, I knew he'd left long ago.

Why so much agony? Somehow his pain pained me.

Was it because he had seen something he didn't like? Why was he here, anyway?

He must have been spying on Edward and Bella, I thought bitterly, feeling the coppery taste of resentment and jealousy on my tongue.

What a fool I was, feeling sad for the lost wolf who pined for an already claimed woman.

Claimed.

I sighed.

I was braced between self-hatred and self-pity. I curled my hands into stone fists, feeling the weight of my wedding ring on my finger even though it stayed tucked away in my jewellery box, untouched, like the sliver of gold was radioactive. I tightened my left hand and rubbed my knuckles with my right hand, willing the tingling to go away but knowing as long as the commitment was unbroken, the feeling would never leave.

Now that Emmett and I had finished school again, I was free to place it back on my hand...but I hadn't gotten around to it yet.

That's what I told myself...and everyone else for that matter. I could have easily put it back on now. But I already had enough reminders of how selfish I was acting, or rather, _thinking_ of acting.

The ring was invisibly tethered to me, a part of me, just like the man who gave it to me was.

I laid back on the bed, ungracefully and stared at the pristine ceiling, swallowing the acid emotions in my veins.

Instead of praying for normalcy, praying that everything go back to the way they were before, I imagined my wolf, running home safe but sorrowful.

* * *

Friday began normally for Forks, Washington. A heavy downpour would greet the citizens of the small town as they awoke to the New Year, hung over and groggy from their celebrations the previous night. They would clean up the party decorations; throw half-empty beer bottles in the trash while they winced at the clanging of glass against glass, their heads throbbing with the after-effects of the over-consumption of alcohol.

They would clean out ash trays filled with ash and cigarette butts, tossing the mess onto the garden or into the trash. They would sweep up the paper chains hanging from the ceilings and the part hats scattered across the floor of the living room. They would wake the relatives slumped over the sofas with a shake to the shoulder and an invite to the guest bedroom. They would rub their temples as they continued to clean up mindlessly, avoiding puddles of spilled wine before mopping it up with a dirty dish rag.

They would throw their huge garbage bags filled with mementos of 2009's departure. They would come back inside, huddle in their throw pillows and doze off for the rest of the afternoon, forgetting their resolutions and deciding to _really_ begin the year tomorrow.

But not us. Not the Cullens.

As usual, the decorations were cleared up within seconds of dawn appearing. I was lounging on the sofa, so much like a human would, but not for the purpose of lazing off a migraine, but just because I was back to boredom.

Edward carried Bella, asleep, to his car and drove her home. Carlisle and Esme were lost in each other...again, and were slowly, leisurely, packing the Christmas tree away, the lasting reminder of the season past.

They stared adoringly at each other, echoing a shared sentiment of devotion that swamped them in random bouts, like now, and left them gazing lovingly at one another in awe.

They stole kisses in between wrapping ornaments. Once it was a bare splash of green bristles against the white walls, Carlisle wrestled with it a moment, tucking it under his arm like a small package and easing it out the back door while Emmett watched on with amusement turning his mouth up at the corners.

His eyes were on the T.V, but his left hand rubbed and squeezed my ankles that were perched on his lap as he flicked wearily through the channels, perking up when he found something he liked.

I didn't have to turn my head, or even listen to know it was a sports broadcast. He watched with rapt attention, eyes sparkling like a child's. So innocent and blameless.

I didn't want to look anymore. I pulled my legs from his grasp and he let them go easily without a word and sat back, throwing his arms over the back of the couch and settling in. I stood up, barefoot for once, and sought the house out for Alice.

She materialised when I reached my bedroom, grinning and pushing me down to sit on the bed.

She saw this happening and I rested my chin in my hand as she skipped to the window and drew the heavy curtains back. I had closed them earlier, fearing the howls would return, but knowing a mere sheath of fabric would not hinder it.

"I'm going out of my mind here, Ali." I commented with clenched teeth.

She smiled and bobbed her head, laying down on the bed with her arms behind her head, propped up on a pillow.

"Shouldn't _I_ be lying on the therapist's couch?" I eyed her position with a raised brow.

"I'm here to help, so just spit out whatever you need to say." She replied, assessing her nails with a concentrated frown.

"Well don't you already know?" I dead-panned, annoyed.

She sighed, reflecting my mood.

"Listen, Rosalie," she barely used my full name when she was being pleasant.

"You wanted to talk to me. I'm giving you the chance to get it off your chest because lord knows it is starting to eat away at you." She waited for a snappy remark but I decided not to make one.

She softened and motioned with her hand, silently urging me to get started.

"It's getting worse..." I said evasively.

She sighed again.

"I'm not Edward remember, explain please?" she patted the bed next to her and I scooted to the centre of the mattress at her feet, crossing my legs underneath me.

I lowered my voice.

"I'm...in a rut. I need _something_, Alice. And I can't keep going on like this. I can't keep coming to you and talking about how horrible everything is. I need to do something, have something happen. But I'm afraid of what might..."

Alice seemed speculative for a moment and I sighed, letting my head fall into her lap as she rubbed my scalp with her fingers.

"Never you mind about something happening. Things are always happening, even if you're not there to witness it."

I frowned at the cryptic words.

If she wasn't going to talk straight answers to begin with, there was no point in asking her. Because I knew she wouldn't share. She would use the excuse that we needed to find out for ourselves.

Life wouldn't be much fun with someone spoiling the ending for you each time, she'd argue.

But I had grown used to her insightful, slightly useless messages.

So...I let it be, comforted for the first time in days.

* * *

And just like Alice had foreseen, something happened.

Saturday.

The rain had let up, but it was only replaced with snow, too cold for Forks' usual dampening rain. The clouds, purple and ominous loomed, intimidating, above the shroud of trees.

As usual, I had escaped from the house back into the forest, a place that was quickly becoming my haven.

But I was tired of pacing in one place.

The intricate lines of tree bark and the scents of woodland creatures provided dismal entertainment. There were only so many pebbles I could count before I grew murderous.

So, instead of hauling a few trees over in boredom of my tedious guarding task, I decided running was the best antidote. I realised now why Edward did it so often, and with so much reverence.

It was _something_, it had essence and interest.

I hadn't gotten far before I felt my body ignite, like my bones were glowing.

A bizarre, slightly disconcerted feeling settled inside me. I felt eyes on me, stinging pleasantly against my cold skin. I paused, eyeing the empty expanse of tree trunks around me, concealing any beast that stalked me from the shadows.

The bleak morning covered enough of the sun to keep it from seeping through to the ground under the canopy. Only a small amount of light filtered through.

But that's not what illuminated me.

I wasn't alone.

I sucked in a breath and knew.

"What are you doing here?" I asked and my eyes landed on his form as he appeared.

Deja Vu.

The snow had fallen thick and unrelenting that day, too.

We were alone together again. I was thrilled and concerned...not understanding or trusting the thoughts that ran rampant in my head or the fiery clamp around my heart.

"Nice to see you, too." He muttered darkly.

He was human, and I was glad to be able to have a conversing form of him available, even if his wolf form was intriguing and somehow _less_ daunting.

He stepped out from behind a tree, like he had been hiding, waiting in the wings, coiled like wire and hot like fired iron.

I could feel the heat radiating of his skin in waves.

His eyes looked dangerous...hurt. I didn't like seeing it there. The look of betrayed sorrow didn't suit him. I wish I could have dusted away his burdens like Esme dusted the shelves of Carlisle's study.

It was easy to clear away someone's clutter, but only if it was the kind of clutter you could touch.

Jacob's was residing inside his bottomless brown eyes.

"I...I wanted to see you again," I blurted, regretting it.

He was wearing a dark blue T-shirt, his muscles taught under the material. Along with the usual denim shorts and some jogging shoes.

His hair was messy and in a disarray that suited his sinister features.

He was angry about something...

"Did you, now?" he ground out in disdain, tone clipped like a bird's wings.

He had his hands in his pockets and was slowly circling me like he was interrogating a criminal. I felt like one for some reason.

"Are...did I do something?" I asked, buckling under his intense stare as he paused in front of me.

He planted his feet on the ground, nostrils flared.

"Did you do something?" he repeated sarcastically, his voice acidic.

He narrowed his eyes at me and I felt the stinging shards of glass piercing deeper into my heart, puncturing with frightening speed and pain.

The muscles in his forearm stood on end and the veins in his neck pulsed strongly, angrily. His dark brows creased over his eyes.

"You've done more damage than you're fucking aware of." He whispered bitterly, resentfully.

"You—"

"How dare you?" I cried, appalled.

If Alice had seen this, I was going to tear her tiny body to shreds when I saw her again.

I took a step closer in outrage, unaware of how obtrusive my actions were.

"Stop, you've already done enough." He sneered, but his expression faltered.

I ignored it and poked my finger into his chest.

"Go home," I ordered loudly, angrily, glancing over his shoulder to indicate the direction he should be running in.

"You don't have a place here. You're not a friend, you're not family and nothing you say means anything." I spat, and noted with despair how his eyes tightened.

"Don't." He growled eyes darkening like smoke from a coal fire.

"Get. Me. Angry." He warned and I quietened.

I realised our proximity and his rising fury. I shouldn't have pushed him. He was volatile, like me, but I wasn't prone to transformation. I was too close and he could hurt me.

I realised he _would._

Chest rising rapidly with each, ragged, strangled breath, he glared at me with hatred so intense that I felt it rattle inside my chest and grip my stomach.

Eyes wide, and unable to move, I watched and waited to feel his paw across my face, or his teeth sinking into my neck.

But instead his hot fingers buried themselves into my hair, burning and heating.

"You don't belong to him," he snarled, his other hand grabbing harshly at my wrist.

My body came alive, arching and sizzling at contact.

His hand cradled the nape of my neck for a split second before the impossible came true and the thread of anger was severed completely when his mouth touched mine.

Forceful, hot and passionate.


	5. Royce King II

Essenza Del Lupo~

I don't own Twilight.

_This chapter is quite long for an EDL update. According to the books, Rosalie was changed in the **April** of 1933, but I'm making it so she was turned in the early **December** of 1933._

* * *

For some reason, I was breathing hard, although my body didn't need the relief of oxygen.

It was out of habit.

Jacob's lips moved languidly, heated and soft on mine. And he tasted...amazing. My body tingled and ached in all the familiar places, but with an intense spark that radiated through my entire frame, leaving me confused and shaken.

Our lips were even and malleable together. I was no stronger than him, and he was finding it easy to control my movements, pushing me back with his torso, leaning into me.

I felt the rough surface of a tree hit my back, scraping against my sweater and my jean-sheathed legs. I couldn't have cared that I was ruining my clothes, or that my hair was surely in an obvious disarray from the tangling of his long, hot fingers.

He was relentless, parting my lips with determination until he gained full access to my mouth and tongue, letting them slide effortlessly together.

Lost in the moment and intent on contact, his hand quickly sought my hip, running down my thigh before grasping the back of my knee to hitch it around his own hips.

I gasped at his forwardness, my own hands clutching frantically at his shoulders, unyielding under my unnatural strength.

He was tougher than I gave him credit for.

He inhaled my breath like it was ambrosia, worshipping my lips with strong, ardent kisses.

I leaned into his neck, letting my tongue dart out to touch his fiery skin and lavishing in the taste, excited and enticed.

We were a spectacle to no audience, completely alone and isolated.

I wanted nothing more...

He pulled my mouth back to his, groaning low and roughly as the contrast of our skin spiked the pleasure.

I moaned in response to his obvious pleasure, embarrassed to find I was slowly rubbing against him, tempting a reaction from his body.

I succeeded and was surprised to feel him press his hardness against me.

The snow began to fall quite heavily then, coating us in exactly duplicated white flakes.

It reminded me of that one night...surrounded by so much heat...

* * *

~0~ November, 1932~0~

Rosalie Lillian Hale, I was born—a mere eighteen years ago.

My father told me that day a precious gift was brought into the world, and of course, I solely believed him. I knew I was special, why would everyone treat me so, if I weren't?

Of course Jonathan Hale had a tendency to boast about his assets, personal and financial. A beautiful daughter was the ultimate bargaining chip into high social status.

I knew as much, but still, the attention was too great to ignore. And, if it weren't so bold to say, I enjoyed it like any young woman my age would.

There were often things that did bother me about my parents and how they treated me as a possession; not a daughter. I was crucial to their social standing somehow. As usual, they wanted even more than what they had already achieved with wealth and charisma. My mother, Evelyn would constantly place me under the limelight at dinner parties, and brag about how well I was doing in school, or how my looks had utterly flourished from adolescent girl to voluptuous woman.

Sometimes it got overwhelming; but I'd learned to live with it, if I wanted to keep their adoration and if I wished to inherit any of the substantial estate they owned just outside of Rochester. Father would generally travel back into town for his work, luckily it wasn't too far from where we resided otherwise the transportation time would be quite the encumbrance on his career.

I was relaxing at the table after a restless night's sleep, munching leisurely at a piece of toast and sipping at my tea. Father had left for work just under an hour ago, and I was reading—intermittently between eating—_The New York Times._

Apparently, this whole business with the economic recession was slowly beginning to dissipate. Brokers, bankers and accountants alike are all claiming, 'things may look bad now, but ultimately, we are returning from the dark ages of the stock market crash...'.

I remembered listening to father talk of an extreme decrease in stock and market value; a lot of people losing money, their jobs and spinning the financial world up on it's head.

Bizarrely, it hadn't affected us, not in the least. Only when I ventured out into town, or walked the streets with father or Henry, my seventeen year old brother (William, the youngest of our family at fourteen was too young), escorting me, did I eventually ingest the sheer desperation some people were in.

There were men, women and most saddening of all, children, on the sidewalks, begging for change or morsels of food which I was told not to give. Father promised, 'the government will take care of them'. I wasn't exactly so sure. Whenever I thought of their dirtied hands, scratching at the pavement beneath my feet, pleading for my attention or compassion, I always felt a nauseous twinge of guilt in my stomach.

Hopefully, things wouldn't be so bad for too long.

I dropped my cold toast onto the china plate set in front of me, discarding my tea, as it was lukewarm and the lemon wedge had soaked in their for too long, making the tea to bitter to drink. I sighed, flipping the paper closed as I heard someone enter the dining room. I brushed a few thick blonde tendrils out of my face and squinted my eyes as our house maid, Isabelle, no older than myself, walk hesitantly to gather my dishes.

"How are you this morning, Miss Hale?" she smiled, warm skinned and bottomless brown irises.

I always admired her natural Mediterranean beauty.

She originated from Italy, she told me; a family of four awaited her at home. She left to explore the states, a huge wonder of opportunities in her eyes.

"I'm fine, Isabelle." I grinned, handing her my cup and saucer then folding my paper under my arm.

"Your mother would like to see you in her room, too, Miss Hale."

"Call me Rose, Isabelle. I don't mind." I reassured her, patting her arm clad in her standard grey uniform dress.

Her apron was messy, probably from cooking this morning, preparing our meals for the day and such.

I prompted a small, grateful smile from her lips as her eyes darted around nervously. She scratched her ear, tucking her brown locks behind her it, a habit of mine, too, before she hastily shuffled out into the kitchen. She was always intimidated by me. I tried to make her as comfortable as possible; she was after all, the only thing close to a sister I had at the Hale Estate.

I tugged my robes closer around my body, the silky white material slipping over my nightie. I tied it up at my waist, into a bow before gracing up the stairs, hard dark wood with gold paint embellished in the carvings on the banister.

I let my hands stroke over the smooth surface, making my way down the first floor hallway and into my parent's bedroom. The moulding of the roof was gilded like the banister, intricate designs masterfully woven into patterns across a cream backdrop. I sauntered up to the enormous bed, already made by Isabelle with neatly pressed sheets and blankets. The coverlet was white with gold stitching. My parent's bedroom always reminded me of what I presumed heaven looked like, with white fluffy clouds, embossed with golden lines and swirls...the home of angels with blonde, spaghetti strand hair and golden eyes, crisp pale skin...

Mother was sitting at her vanity, the only dark piece of furniture in the entire room, brushing through her hair with a comb. Her blonde hair was a shade darker than mine, but lovely and long, wavy with a subtle curl at the ends.

I always played with her hair as a child, until she started to play with mine.

"Mother?" I murmured, catching her gaze in the mirror.

"Oh, Rose, come here will you?" she stood up, still dressed in her night clothes, too.

It was a sluggish day it seemed.

I allowed her to push me down on the chair while she determinedly brushed through my unruly hair, attempting to tame it and get it to sit right. She used more force than she did with her own hair.

Her harsh strokes tugged at the roots, burning my scalp, but I just winced and took it, because she would only _tsk_ me for complaining.

"I want you to look pretty for me today, Rosie." She grinned, eyes sparkling excitedly—scheming—as she plucked her favourite hair clips from the table, twining them into my hair to pull my bangs from my face.

The blue stones shone from the copper teeth of the clips, winking expensively at me from their perch in my hair.

I frowned at my mother through the reflection.

"Are we going out today mother? Perhaps we could take Isabelle? I'm sure she's deserved a bit of time outside—"

"No, no, dear. I just want you to go and drop off your father's lunch, since he's forgotten it today. Leave it to Jonathan to remember exact dates of the civil war but not his own sustenance. I swear, darling if your father relied only on himself, he would have died of starvation years ago..." she trailed off, chuckling.

"I'm to go to the bank?" I clarified and she nodded, flicking my hair about.

"Why are you dressing me up like we're attending a ball?" I laughed.

"I don't see the harm and praising my daughter a little, you know, tending and emphasising her natural attractiveness. Besides, today, you're glowing and I want your father to see his daughter looking happy and pretty—it will make him in a better mood for when he comes home, plus he will have a full stomach." She pointed out with an arched brow.

"Shan't I be escorted? By Henry?"

She shook her head, 'no'.

"It's okay, it's not far, and really there is no need. There are hardly any of those shaded types en route to the bank. You'll be fine." By 'shady types' she meant beggars, planting a begrudged scowl on my face before it was wiped clean with her chipper attitude.

"Maybe if you're lucky, someone might offer to walk you home."

I watched her blue eyes, shining greenish in the sunlight, looking as cold as ice chips but with the undertone of kindness.

She was always a good mother, always looking for the best for her only daughter.

"Okay," I squeezed her hand which was rested on my shoulder.

She helped me into a beautiful blue dress, the colour making my eyes stand out like sapphires in fire.

"Now off you go," she urged, handing me Father's paper bag full of food.

She pressed it into one of my gloved hands while I placed a white hat carefully over my sculpted hair, keeping the curls intact. I looked into the mirror beside the door, popping my lips to spread my lipstick before smiling at Mother and leaving out the front door.

I trotted carefully down the stone steps, strolling cheerfully out of Hale Estate without a man hanging off my arm.

* * *

"Mr. King, this is my daughter, Rosalie. Rosalie, this is Mr. Royce Kind the second." Father grinned, looking as portly as Santa Clause with his greying moustache and rosy cheeks.

I smiled at Royce King, offering a dainty, white gloved hand which he took in his own before raising it to his lips.

"Rosalie...like the rose, such a beautiful flower, don't you think?" he commented, whispering against my hand as he looked up at me through his eyelashes.

I was used to compliments such as the ones he was doling out now, quite profusely, never letting his eyes stray from my face.

Except for when he was taking inventory of the rest of my body, leaving my cheeks red with colour.

"Why, you're too kind, Mr. King." I giggled.

We were in my father's office, sitting at his expansive mahogany desk in his mahogany chairs, upholstered with red velvet. The carpet was the same colour, and the walls a dark wood, adorned with pictures of Jonathan Hale and his associates at special events. There were a few with me in them, the same for my Mother and brothers.

Leather bound books dotted his usually in-order desk, and the bookcases stacked behind his chair were so full of books and files that a lot were sitting on the floor, off to the side since they would not fit.

I wasn't so naive to think my Mother hadn't made me come here alone for a reason. She wanted me to meet this man, he obviously meant business to my father and the bank.

Hopefully, he was a gentleman like he seemed.

His warm hazel eyes bored into mine before a crease appeared between his brows.

"You have enchanting eyes, Miss Hale. So beautiful, and such a bizarre shade of blue, almost a violet colour..." he murmured adoringly.

I blushed some more before dropping my shy gaze to my feet.

"I suppose I will see you at home, Father. Have a good day and good luck." I said, excusing myself and standing up to lay a kiss on his cheek before exiting.

I cast a glance back into his office, satisfied to find Royce watching my back as I left until the door closed behind me, _Mr. Jonathan Hale_ shone in gold letters across the wooden surface.

* * *

~0~ Late January, 1933 ~0~

"How do you do? How do you do?" I smiled pleasantly, straining my cheeks and making them sore as I grimaced my way through a group of my Royce's colleagues and their wives and children.

"You're looking lovely this evening, of course, my darling Rose." Mr. Lancaster complimented, smirking at my flushed face.

"Yes, it is a bit stuffy in here isn't it? They have the fires roaring in every corner." He chuckled, misconceiving the reason behind my reddened skin.

I just nodded and smiled anyway.

Mr. Lancaster was one of the few who survived the down fall of the economy, although he did lose money through his agricultural investments, he was still as rich as the Hales and the Kings—basically New York royalty.

He and his wife both attended our monthly dinner parties. Isabelle was swift in carting hors d'oeuvres on silver platters, caviar and smoked salmon. The other wait staff had white clothes hanging over their forearms, holding bottles of wine or trays with flutes of champagne on them.

I searched our cavernous living room, packed full of rich nobodies—faceless fakes, to me—for Royce.

I spotted him with my father, he was shaking with laughter while Father had his arm tossed casually over his shoulders, like they were old friends.

I suppose he wanted it to be that way; the Royce enterprise would be a good pie for my father and his bank to have a finger in.

I grinned, straightening out my off-white dress as I approached the small bar they were crowded around.

I had been in a relationship with Royce since early in December. He honestly was a gentlemen, very chivalrous and constantly buying me nice things if he was working too much to spend time with me.

He truly was caring, I could see it in his eyes.

But I felt rather annoyed with my father once I could see how drunk he'd gotten Royce, most probably in an effort to gain some camaraderie. Spilling his whiskey a little from his crystal tumbler, he eyed me appreciatively with a cheeky smirk and alcohol glistened eyes.

"Well hello there, Rose, sweet heart. Care for a drink?" he offered and I shook my head.

He clucked his tongue and chuckled along with my father.

"She's responsible, this one, Jonathon." He nodded at Father before pushing away from his arm to wrap his own around my waist and kiss me on the cheek.

His golden brown hair was clipped short and combed neatly. His features were soft, but not too feminine, either. Right now, his skin was blotchy and pinkish, but he still had his trademark handsome face.

"Come for a walk with me precious." He said into my ear, dragging me across the floor to get some privacy.

"I'd be pleasured." I answered, allowing him to take me out of the crowd.

He stumbled a bit as he climbed the stairs to the higher floors of our mansion, making clumsy steps and accidentally nudging the walls with his elbows.

"You do look so pretty tonight." He commented with less composure.

I smiled and nodded.

"Thank you." I ducked my head and he hooked his finger under my chin, planting a hot kiss on my lips.

The alcohol in his mouth took my breath away, he tasted as if he'd been bathing in it. Usually, our kisses would last no more than a few seconds before he touched his forehead to mine or kissed me on the nose gently.

But he was more persistent tonight, palming his way down my dress, over my ribs to my hips. He backed me into a shadowed part of the hall, pressing my back to the door of my bedroom before his mouth continued ravishing mine.

I found a little uncomfortable.

"Are—can we...Royce," I mumbled against his determined mouth, before he plunged his tongue between my lips.

I made a noise, which sounded like, but was not a moan of pleasure.

Taking this as a sign of encouragement, he pressed me harder to the wood and I whimpered.

"Royce, please!" I hissed, angry at his indecency.

"Just let me have it, Rosie." He growled, eyes alight and burning before he crushed his lips to mine again.

He pushed his hips into mine and I gasped when I felt _it._

"Royce!" I protested, shocked with this side of him.

"Shut up." He ordered.

"Stop!" I demanded, raking a hand across his cheek.

He stumbled backwards in shock, cupping his hand to his face and glaring at me, panting. I breathed hard, trembling.

"I'm...I'm sorry Royce...I—"

"Miss Hale?" I heard Isabelle's familiar lilt and I turned my head, heart thumping loud to find her hesitating one step down from the landing.

"Is everything alright?" she wondered, eyes wide and trained on my unkempt dress and Royce's expression of contempt but then as he looked at her, he gathered his wits and apologised to both of us.

I felt the burn of the fire everywhere. Deep in my stomach, in my chest and in my head. Like the roaring fires were inside of me, warning me about Royce...lingering...

* * *

~0~ Present Day ~0~

I gasped in shock at what my mind had dredged up, pushing at his chest unconsciously, to gain space; lost in the memory of a man once loved but since then, _loathed._

"What?" Jacob gasped, strong, firm hands still clutching my waist as I furtively, out of habit, tried to dry my eyes of phantom tears.

"Nothing..." I whispered, shaking my head, the ghost of my recollections lingering in my expression.

Jacob, tall and domineering, stood closer, tempting my control and my temper.

Since I wasn't wavering from my concentrated stare into his eyes, he pressed against me again, testing the waters to see if I pushed him away like before.

His hand, surprisingly gentle rested on my cheek, his finger tips exuding the fiery heat that felt so familiar but felt nothing alike. I was entirely contradicting myself.

On one hand, his fingers, his skin, his everything burned like a naked flame, but it was a different kind of heat that radiated from his body into mine. It empowered me, I felt strong, rather than weak and used.

Shuddering, I pulled his face back down to mine, tentative but eager at the same time.

He breathed hard and groaned like he was in pain as he grinded his hips back into mine, letting me feel exactly what he felt.

"What's happening to me?" he demanded, eyes closed but our lips apart.

I looked at his face and felt wary and hesitant, but I reached my fingers to his cheeks anyway, stroking them consolingly.

He looked as conflicted as I felt.

"I feel like I should be running away right now...or tearing you to shreds." He muttered, eyes opening but narrowing to slits.

And even though his words were probably intended to be threatening, I felt none of the malice he meant.

"So, why can't I?" he scowled accusingly at me.

I gulped.

"Maybe...maybe you should run—"

"No." He stated simply, easily, as if he'd already thought of it, tested it then abandoned it.

He sighed long and rough before groaning out loud.

"What the fuck have I just done?" he yelled out to the sky, snowflakes melting onto his face.

He blinked hard.

"I'm asking myself the same question." I assured him.

"Look, nobody has to know..."

"You're fucking brother will know, just like he knows everything!" he roared, spitting like embers from a fire.

I backed up from him, feeling confronted.

"He's not the kind to spread someone's personal business." I defended lightly.

"But I'm more confused about why it happened in the first place?"

He whirled on me, eyes flashing. They shifted between the two of mine, his fists clenched at his sides and his body back to the same rigid pose it was before.

His lips were shut into a tight line, clenched together like he was trying to stop himself from blurting out the truth.

I narrowed my eyes.

"Tell me." I requested, folding my arms across my chest.

He mumbled something unintelligible, but not for my ears.

I blanched.

"I'm sorry, did you just say '_imprinted_'?"


	6. Triumph into Terror

Essenza Del Lupo~

_Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight! But I do own R and J fluff._

* * *

"I'm sorry, did you just say, _imprinted?_"

Jacob just stood there, glaring at me.

"I'm not familiar with that term." I choked, although I was quite sure it meant something extremely significant.

He backed up slightly, as if my words were offensive. His shoulders rose as he heaved a deep breath, his muscles taught and rigid with stress.

His eyes pierced mine again and I shuddered, feeling as though he was staring at my naked body. I could sense his emotions, running wild through his veins and reverberating between us like sound vibrations. I felt the weight of his stare as pressure in my ears.

I hoped I wasn't being too abrasive; but it seemed to directly involve me.

How could I not ask, and why was he glowering at me for doing so?

"Why won't you answer me?" I demanded with scorn, frustrated with his silence.

I took another step closer, intimidation usually worked in my favour. But against his attitude and size?

He huffed angrily, but his eyes burned with an intense passion. It wasn't necessarily hate, or loathe, more like resentment. But no matter what the degree, the thought still left a bitter taste in my mouth.

The wind surrounded us and the snow cocooned me; I nervously brushed it off my shoulders, feeling the dampness soak through my jacket.

"Well?" I pressed, moving closer still.

His eyes moved down to meet mine as I approached, my form dwarfed against his giant-like stature.

"Damn it, open your mouth!" I cried, indignant.

He grasped the nape of my neck with one of his huge warm hands, forcing his mouth upon mine with a vigour I couldn't resist. But I had to if I wanted information.

I pushed against his chest and he let me go with a scowl.

"You can't evade questions like that! You can't use affection or persuasion with contact to get me to shut up!"

His eyes tightened and flashed before he breathed out and gently rubbed his thumb over where he'd gripped, almost like it was instinctual and he didn't realise he was doing it at all.

"Alright," he relented with some amount of irritation.

He let me go, dropping his hands limply to his sides. He was back to being the blunt, aggressive wolf, and not the warm, intense human.

"It happened the first moment I saw you," he admitted in a rush.

I grimaced at the cliché.

"I know how unoriginal that sounds; but it just...it's like nothing else, believe me." He stressed, running both his hands through his thick, wiry black hair.

My hands twitched, wanting to imitate his movements.

"It's almost like an order from the Alpha; I don't have a choice."

I narrowed my eyes.

He half-turned away, tightening his fists. I watched Jacob as he tapped the tree trunk next to him, then again with restrained force.

"It's supposed to be something that rarely happens..." he muttered regrettably, pounding his fist harder into the bark, causing it to split.

I flinched but returned my gaze to his.

He still wouldn't look at me. He pulled his fist back from the broken tree, staring at his bloodied knuckles with a distant sense of interest.

Oddly, the blood was somewhat appealing; the familiar burn echoed down my throat in trails of fire. I swallowed back the urges that ran rampant through my body.

Jacob caught me staring at the blood that slowly oozed from the broken skin. My lips parted and I tasted the venom coating my teeth, swelling in my mouth.

And yet he decided not to say anything.

"It's permanent and it's irreversible."

I flicked my eyes back to his face and tried to focus.

"Another member of the pack have had it happen to them, too. Sam. He was with Leah at the time, but then your kind returned."

I ground my teeth against the keen retort on my tongue. I held back to let him finish, pursing my lips in annoyance.

"He made the transformation first. He was still in love with Leah, but after a chance meeting with her cousin, he imprinted on her; he fell out of love with his girlfriend and found himself inexplicable connected to this strange girl."

He looked up at me once more with burning eyes.

"I thought it would never happen twice." He took a large breath then blew it out through his teeth.

"And...then, there's this." He motioned to me with one of his hands while the other stayed hidden to his side.

"So, what does that mean? You...I mean, we're...connected the moment we met?" I shook my head in disbelief, frowning hard.

"Sam fell in love with Emily; it was a force greater than anything there is. He wanted to be her friend, her carer, protector...lover."

"He'll be anything she wants him to be. He'd do anything for her, even if it meant the cost of himself or his own happiness...

"She's everything to him now." His eyes darkened perceptibly.

I stared, silent and eerily still as I swallowed this information. I choked on the words that I wanted to say, but they came out ineloquently anyway.

"You're in love with me?" I stuttered.

I never stuttered.

I was always calm, collected and articulate; it comes with decades of life to waste on pointless skills.

I watched the small shifts in his demeanour: defensiveness, denial, rage, and resignation, combined with something else...

...something frightening.

He decided not to answer, remaining infuriatingly mute.

"I'll do anything for you; and yet I've never called you by your real name. I'll lie to my family, to my pack if I can, to keep you a secret. I will come and find you at any time, day or night, if you need me. I'll be for you, what Sam is to Emily."

He dropped his eyes hesitantly.

"But that doesn't mean I'm in love with you."

I nodded slowly, thankful that I could not shed tears and that any emotion I had could be easily veiled or tucked beneath the surface, like dust under a rug.

"Okay." I said simply, backing away.

"Then why did you kiss me?"

"I had to." he grumbled...

....And then he was gone so abruptly.

I listened to his footsteps grow more light as he picked up speed, running away from me and back home; they got heavier as he transformed and they disappeared altogether.

* * *

I was stony and distant when I returned home.

I couldn't talk, not to anyone; I was in shock and I was afraid of what I might sound like if I tried to speak to someone. Especially Emmett.

Edward and Jasper were emotionally perceptive enough to understand something was wrong. However, it was only Edward who didn't chalk it up to my usual aloofness.

He knew, and still was courteous enough not to mention it. He had learned quickly when living with us, that whatever went on inside our heads, unless life-threatening, was our own to keep or share.

He had no place. But he eyed me sympathetically, for some reason. He kept his face straight, although I could sense his shock, confusion, and a little bit of relief. Relief for what?

I ignored Jasper's instinctive wave of calm whenever a stab of unease entered the house or his proximity. Alice was attuned to me, but she didn't show it.

She lifted her finger in my direction, an action she knew I would not miss.

I quickly decided to have a shower, to wash Jacob's scent from my body, my hair, my clothes, even though I wished I didn't have to.

But it would raise unwanted questions. Even if I could explain in a non-incriminating way, Emmett would believe they approached me without permission, an attack.

But he was thankfully oblivious; something I was for once, grateful for.

I shed my clothes and threw them into the hamper, or perhaps the trash would be better, because I knew I could never wear them again. Even with profuse, stringent cleaning, the scent would always linger.

I needed to destroy the evidence that would destroy me.

He didn't love me, of course I hadn't expected it.

But what? He imprinted on me?

_Insanity!_

I hopped in the shower and took every measure to wash away the day. Esme had taken over my shift outside Bella's house to watch over Charlie. I heard everything downstairs.

Emmett was watching T.V, and arguing with Jasper or trying to persuade him to go hunting with him. I could hear the steady thrum of Bella's heartbeat (she was constantly here because Edward wouldn't let her out of his sight). Carlisle was conferring with Edward about strategy, and relations with the wolves.

They didn't mention Jacob, so I quickly lost interest.

My chin dropped to my chest as I listened more.

Alice's flitting footsteps were coming closer, up the stairs, her hands trailing gently across the walls along the hall ways and into my bedroom outside.

I sighed, turning the hot tap off, and stepping out, wrapping a towel around my torso and another around my head.

I stopped at the doorway, closing it behind me to stop the steam seeping out.

Alice was leaning against the wall, opposite the foot of my bed.

"Did you see—" I was about to accuse.

"I don't see the wolves, remember?" she retorted sharply then sighed, long and heavy.

That alone, sounded like an apology.

"I can't see past them; they're impenetrable."

"Then how did you know all the things about me, before in Carlisle's study?" I questioned, sitting down on the edge of the mattress.

She kept her position while I pulled the towel from my hair.

"Intuition. And from what I'd seen of you alone." She explained easily.

I chewed my bottom lip.

"Edward told me."

I gasped.

"Alice, how could you—"

"Relax—no-one knew what we were talking about, and besides, I asked the questions in my head, he shook his head or nodded." She pressed her lips into a flat line.

"I don't know what to say, Rose. I know you wanted to say something, to have someone to talk to but..." she was shaking her head, lost.

Alice was always there for me with a word of wisdom, if I was too far gone to give self-aid.

"You're psychic, you're supposed to know!" I complained.

"I'm not some bogus fortune teller; I can't do it on command if you want things to be accurate. I have to concentrate, and the clearest visions come without my volition. Don't treat me like a device to use at your disposal. Give me time, or else figure it out by yourself, Rose." she blazed.

I closed my eyes immediately, feeling the slight brush of wind as she left the room.

I wanted to be alone, desperately.

I cloaked my desire by saying I wanted to test my BMW. I'd just modified the engine and the sound system, so it was natural I would try it out sooner or later. I peeled out of the garage, declining Emmett's company, and sped down the driveway.

There was too little, and too much happening all at once.

I was beginning to pity Edward, for he must go through so much emotional turmoil, then to have everyone else's dumped on top to deal with would be excruciating.

I'd never given him enough credit for what he goes through.

I sighed, somewhat contentedly as I heard nothing but the road running under black rubber once I hit the highway.

I sped up to one-twenty and didn't slow down.

I didn't know where I was headed. I left my cell at home as it proved to be a distraction. I watched the dim countryside blow past my windows, blurry to human eyes, but easily defined with my own.

I gripped the steering wheel like a life preserve, thinking deeply about what on Earth I was getting myself into, or rather, had already gotten myself into.

I suppose I was in too deep to back out.

The transition period was over, and I was stuck with this binding contract.

In some ways, it was completely unfair.

If I had been paying full attention, I would have seen the white and red streak of colour that appeared behind the edge of trees to the shoulder of the road.

Unfortunately, as I was approaching a bridge, it hit the side of my car.

I gasped in shock, helpless as to getting out. I felt my stomach turn uncomfortably as I flipped down the embankment, sliding the rest of the way across the unstable, muddy surface encroaching on the wide stream of water below.

I was upside down before I tore my seatbelt off, snarling with rage.

The car tipped forward and flooded with water. A minor disadvantage if I was going to catch up to Victoria. It was the only person that came to mind. Only she was maniacal enough to take on a car and a pissed vampire inside of it.

I kicked the windshield out, lithely leaping to the opposite bank and pausing for a second to mourn the loss of my magnificent vehicle before I tore that bitch's throat out and showed it to her.

Oddly, as I made it back to the road, she was standing in the middle of it, expectantly.

"Cullen?" she hissed, her mouth curling.

I appraised her ratty clothes with a grimace of disgust. She had no grasp on looking human, though I suppose her purpose wasn't to blend with society like we do.

I answered in affirmation with silence.

She already knew who I was.

It was a mere greeting. My knees bent, my back straight but leaning forward as my arms spanned wider, curling into claws, my lips pulling back from my teeth.

"Feeling playful are we?" she giggled, crimson eyes sparkling.

"I suppose you'll be the best to test this on." She pondered, causing an alarm bell to go off in my brain.

Test what?

Distracted, I slipped out of offensive, but she didn't choose then to attack. Maybe she was traditional and admired an even duel.

I didn't care; I'd tear her apart anyway. I was more than capable.

She just smiled menacingly, like a sinister china doll before I heard the not-so-silent proximity of more Vampires.

They drew near, closing around Victoria like iron filings to a magnet. They moved like she did, and I could tell they were new-borns. I was more adept at fighting and combat, but they surely had the number advantage.

Victoria laughed again.

I was as good as dead.

"You ruined my car, you fucking bitch!" I growled, shifting back into a crouched position, poised for battle but knowing I was far from the chance of winning against them all.

"Join us in destroying the girl if you want me to spare you." She bargained.

"The girl? You mean, Bella." I corrected, feeling bizarre about defending her.

She clamped her lips together, irritated at the mention of her name, it seemed. She growled low under her breath.

"It is her fault that James is dead." She screeched incredulously.

I watched, quite fearfully, as I hastily counted the white faces surrounding me.

Six, in total.

There could be more lying in wait.

I would definitely lose.

One, however, favoured Victoria's left side, almost clinging to her. I smirked, buying time.

"Looks like you've moved on, already." I nodded in his direction, noting his blonde hair.

He snarled like a bear caught in a trap, lunging without direction from his leader and aiming for my throat. That was their primary tactic. New-borns had little patience to learn too much about fighting.

It was pure convenience that I constantly kept a lighter on me, tucked safely into my jacket pocket. We had all procured them in the event of a situation, like this, would arise. A confrontation with Victoria, herself.

I tore his head from his neck with a quick swipe from my teeth, his scream resonated through the forests before he even laid a finger on me.

Triumph quickly turned to terror.

I'd torn this unknown horror to shreds within seconds, but not fast enough, it seemed, to block the other offenses.

I screamed in pain as I felt the searing burn of a Vampire bite on my upper arm and waist.

I dropped my lighter to the pile of stone limbs, casting a sickly orange hue across the trees while I watched Victoria flee. There was no doubt within me that she would return with an army sixteen strong, instead of six.

I shrieked again, feeling the sting of teeth on the back of my left calf and the tear of my clothes as they tried to tear me apart, their comrade burning before them.

But Victoria didn't flee out of boredom or failure, she fled from the magnificent wolf that materialised out of nowhere.


	7. Chaos in Between

Essenza Del Lupo~

_Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight, just the R and J romance._

_We learn more about Rosalie's past, stuff that hadn't happened, necessarily, in the book. But I think it adds a lot more character to a girl who isn't really done justice.  
_

* * *

_A falling star fell from your heart and landed in my eyes_  
_ I screamed aloud, as it tore through them, and now it's left me blind_

_ The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out_  
_ You left me in the dark_  
_ No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight_  
_ In the shadow of your heart_

_ And in the dark, I can hear your heartbeat_  
_ I tried to find the sound_  
_ But then it stopped, and I was in the darkness,_  
_ So darkness I became_

_ The stars, the moon, they have all been blown out_  
_ You left me in the dark_  
_ No dawn, no day, I'm always in this twilight_  
_ In the shadow of your heart_

_ I took the stars from our eyes, and then I made a map_  
_ And knew that somehow I could find my way back_  
_ Then I heard your heart beating, you were in the darkness too_  
_ So I stayed in the darkness with you._

_Cosmic Love- Florence and the Machine_

* * *

The venom was debilitating; I'd never felt the power of it before.

I only had Jasper describe it to me once, as he was the only one who'd experienced it when he travelled rogue in the South.

Like I was re-living my transformation through each pierce their razor teeth made into my usually impenetrable skin, I was gasping for air, crying out in shock of the pain. I hadn't felt such physical pain in years, decades, even.

To be scared of death, or whatever lay beyond for one of my kind, was extremely disconcerting. I'd never felt the cold grip of death before, except for once. The night I was changed.

My thoughts uncontrollably traced the line from that point back to one of subtle importance that occurred not too long before it.

* * *

~0~March, 1933~0~

Spring happened to be one of my favourite times of year. I would adore the seasonal fruits and the chance to prance about the acreage surrounding the Hale estate with my brothers. No matter how old I got, the playfulness of this time of year never wore away with maturity.

Usually, we would venture into the expanse of apple trees to the east of the servants quarters. The sweet fragrance wafted all through the yard and even into the house; it was at it's most potent point during dusk when the heat of the sun began to settle and the rapid shift in temperature leeched the aroma from the fallen fruit.

Beautifully natural.

My mother wanted to gather some friends and neighbours at our home for a garden party, mostly just for the women to socialise, while the men drank and smoked on the opposite side of the house, or in the living room, playing poker.

But she fell ill just a week ago, and she couldn't find the strength to even leave her bed. The doctor said it was a mild cough, and she should recuperate within the next week.

When Henry invited me to join him and William in the fields to pick some apples, I refused, not feeling my mandatory enthusiasm for some reason.

I sighed as I watched them sprint from the back deck, speeding across the fresh green grass, laughing like they were little boys again. Henry always indulged William, as Henry was older and felt, as the second man in command, to spoil his siblings. That included me, of course.

I smiled fondly, but perfunctorily as their backs and legs disappeared through the window I watched them from. I let the white lace curtain fall back into place with another bored sigh of resignation. I was expecting Royce again before dinner. Knowing my father, he'd probably invite him to stay for the entire meal and some hours after it.

I was eager for him to join us; we had been quite tense lately, following the gala dinner when he got too drunk. It's not like I didn't understand what happened, I truly did, and I had forgiven him for stepping out of hand. It's just that he probably still felt utterly awkward about the whole situation. The day after, he'd sent me a dozen red roses, dotted with violets; exactly like the first week he met me.

He was trying to gain my trust and interest back, just like when he was courting me. I assured him I was still in love with him, and that I honestly felt absolute trust; he still punished himself.

Luckily, he'd been better as of late, not so twitchy and agitated around me as before. He touched me just the way he used to, gently and adoringly, the same way a devoted florist handled his most delicate tulips.

I prepared my hair, curling and twisting it to sit on top of my head with a few tendrils hanging down the nape of my neck and around my face, as if to frame it. I padded across the hall and into my mother's room, watching her sleep.

Her face looked slightly pale and sweaty, and it was a bit stuffy inside her bedroom with the drapes drawn. I sauntered over to the window and slid it open, having only slight trouble as it stuck from little usage over the previous winter. A cool breeze flowed in, and the scent of the apples wafted through the room. Mother stirred but didn't completely wake, her hair fanned across the pillow.

I smiled, walked over and patted the back of her hand. It curled around mine suddenly, tightening and loosening as she clenched her eyes shut and blinked, staring up at me.

She sighed and her dry lips stretched into a smile.

"Oh, you look lovely, Rose, darling—all this to come and see your sickly mother?" she chuckled which quickly turned into a wheeze , her voice sticking like her lungs were filled with honey.

"Hush, Mother. No need to talk, and no, I've dressed nicely for Royce, as I expect he'll be coming home with father this afternoon." I explained, tucking the sheets around her but lifting the goose down blanket off.

"I must look awful," she mumbled bashfully, covering her eyes.

I took them away and held them in my own.

"You look beautiful, Mother." I reassured her with a cheeky grin, although we both knew I was lying.

She truly did look terrible.

"Where are the boys?" she queried, yawning and staring to the window as if she knew already.

"Picking apples." I replied.

She grinned, closing her eyes and humming.

"Let's hope I'm better soon, then—I wouldn't want to miss this season of harvest. You should get Isabelle to make some pies..." she trailed off into another yawn, making me feel tired, too.

She coughed harder this time, forehead screwed up and her fist drawn to cover her mouth. She let out a breath when she finished.

I kissed her lightly on the forehead, worried to find she was sweating a bit. I grabbed the damp towel from the bed side table and dabbed it across her face. She sighed again and I replaced it, leaving the room as she fell asleep again.

At four-twenty, Father arrived home and as to be expected, so did Royce. I grinned widely as he closed the door behind him and shrugged out of his suit jacket, depositing it on the coat stand and readjusting the straps of his navy blue suspenders.

His hair was combed neatly as usual and his eyes were shiny, so he probably shared a drink or two at the office before stumbling home.

"Hello darling." I smiled, stepping forward coyly, and pecking him on the lips.

He grasped my arms just above the elbows and returned the kiss before hugging me tightly around the waist.

"How was your day, honey?" he murmured into my neck, playing with my hair.

I giggled at the sensation, goose bumps appearing on my forearms. He smelled of whiskey as he breathed into my neck, placing a tender kiss under my ear lobe.

I squirmed, ticklish.

He laughed heartily, glancing around me as if to check my father wasn't in hearing distance, before he turned me around and slapped me on the behind. I squealed, cupped my hand to my mouth before scampering after Father who'd disappeared into the living area.

"Will your mother be down this evening?" Jonathon asked tentatively, already palming a bottle of scotch that sat on the bar.

I shook my head.

"She's still a little worse for wear, I'm afraid." I murmured, shuffling over and planting a kiss on his cheek which he returned on my other.

"Sweet girl." He chuckled.

"Isabelle!" he called, his voice echoing through the manor.

He handed Royce a crystal whiskey glass, which he took, swigging gallantly. I frowned but didn't comment. Isabelle came flitting worriedly, as always, down the hallway with her apron half askew.

"Si, signore?" she answered in her Italian vernacular, eyeing Royce speculatively before focussing on my father.

I smiled at her.

"Has dinner been served yet?"

"Si, I am just setting it on the table. Shall I go get Mrs. Hale from rest?" she enquired with a brow crease.

He shook his head and smiled congenially.

"No, dear; she won't be joining us, but make sure you do ask her if she's up for a spot of food, will you? Later?"

Isabelle nodded, noticed my smile and planted one on her own mouth. She caught Royce's gaze and it fell, she turned away and sauntered back into the kitchen, her skirt billowing around her ankles.

I followed Father and Royce into the dining room, where Royce held my chair out for me, placing my napkin on my lap as I kissed him once more, feeling greedy.

He chuckled, gulped the rest of his drink down and waited for Isabelle to join us.

The table was mostly silent, for Mother always provided an ice-breaker. She was such a talkative woman, a trait I did not share with her. William inherited the ability to speak with such speed and ease.

I skimmed a hand down my slippery red gown, brushing my palms across the soft velvet while my Father and Royce finally broke the silence, but with talk about their new stock increases which left me bored and completely unaware.

Royce excused himself after the main course of Roast Duck, saying he was full, and needed to use the bathroom. I finished the meal with Isabelle and Father, feeling rather like a pig for being able to eat so much more than my partner.

I sighed, stuffed, as Isabelle cleared the table of our dishes.

"I'll go check on Mother." I told Jonathon, who was scolding Isabelle for knocking his glass over onto his lap.

"Alright, alright," he waved me off with a shake of his napkin, like a sincere farewell.

I gently opened the door and stepped inside, met with silence and darkness. The sun was fully set now, and William and Henry were sure to be getting a little too cold outside. I had to ensure Isabelle left their meals out for them.

I toed off my red slippers and walked over to Mother's bed. She looked a little too pale in the moonlight and as I placed my palm on her cheek to wake her up, I noticed her skin was far too cold to the touch, almost icy.

"Mother?" I murmured, concern filling my tone.

"Mother." I snapped, shaking her shoulders.

Not a stir.

"Oh my goodness!" I gasped, leaning my ear down to her nose to check her breathing.

No air escaped her lungs.

I shook her body until tears blurred my eyes and a scream erupted from my throat. Father came barrelling in the room, Henry following not far behind.

"What is it, Rosalie? What's going on?" he demanded, then saw my hands fall limply to my sides, sliding away from my dead mother's face.

"She's dead, father, oh no!" I cried.

He stumbled forward, shocked and I threw myself at Henry who hugged me back fiercly, leading me away from the sight our eyes beheld.

"Shh, sister, it's alright." His voice shook and his hands trembled as they stroked my hair.

* * *

Dr. Walker came at eight-fourty three that evening, arriving on special request from my Father. He declared my Mother died of pneumonia, and that her lungs had filled with a horrid mucus, preventing her from being able to breathe.

I cried on Henry's shoulder as we watched our Father shed tears, the first time I'd witnessed such a thing. I'd often wondered why my Father never cried, and always wished he'd be a more sensitive man. But seeing him come apart over his loss made me feel sick to my stomach, desiring nothing more than to never see him in such grief again.

William clung to my waist as Royce and Isabelle gave us distance, fearing intrusion on our private family moment.

I watched Dr. Walker's glasses slide down his long, thin, pointy nose as he addressed my Father. I decided to go to bed, and ordered my brothers to do the same, knowing they would be better off not to remember Evelyn Hale the way they saw her lying lifeless in that bed.

I stumbled aimlessly down the hallway to my bedroom, decided I would get a glass of water before bed, and detoured to the kitchen, which was suspiciously empty. I expected Isabelle to be awake still, especially after tonight. But she was nowhere around, so I assumed she'd gone to bed with a heavy heart, also.

I stroked my tear streaked cheeks with shaky fingers, sipping my water as I climbed up the staircase and back down the hall. I ignored Dr. Walker's goodbye as he slipped from my parent's room. I also wondered if Father would stay in that room tonight, if he could bear to be in there with her, or not bear to leave her at all.

_Love is a strange thing._ I thought.

I pushed my bedroom door open, the wood creaking against the hinges when I heard a noise coming from down stairs. I set my glass down on the floor by my door, following the odd wailing. It got louder as I approached our storage cupboard. The light wasn't on inside. I got scared, thinking distantly of how Mother always used to help Isabelle chase out the racoons and rats we occasionally housed in there.

_And so is death._

To the right of the kitchen, it stood. I rubbed at my bleary eyes before stepping forward gingerly, so I didn't frighten the animal back into it's burrow in the wall or something, and turned the knob, pushing the heavy wooden door open. Pulling the cord attached to the hanging light bulb, I came face to face, with sin itself.

_Then there's the chaos in between._

Royce was naked. Isabelle was naked. I saw no clothes sheathing them.

My jaw fell open and my eyes widened with sickened shock.

They were having sex in the storage closet, among the broom sticks and dry mops, the buckets with which Isabelle cleaned the furniture, and floors, and the bristled brushes she used to scrub them.

Royce looked at me as though he'd seen a ghost, not quite, but close, because I felt as though I'd died along with my mother, tonight.

Isabelle started to cry, but I knew she hadn't been here against her will. She clutched Royce's forearms as she whimpered, tears running down her cheeks and dropping from her chin to her bare chest.

I swallowed the large dry lump in my throat, disgusted.

Royce was panting in the harsh light, lips tight and muscles strained, shined with sweat. He groaned, his whole body shuddering. Isabelle's breath hitched but her tears continued. I turned around and vomited next to the stool that stood next to the door, usually to prop it open.

I ran upstairs and into my room, desperately upset and hurt.

I felt betrayed.

Not only from Royce, my future soul mate, but from my Mother, for leaving me alone in the world.

* * *

~0~ Present Day ~0~

That memory slashed through my mind, with a mirage of others as I prepared for the agony of my body being pulled apart.

I screamed when I felt a pair of teeth on my shoulder, tearing the stone muscles and breaking the granite-like bone.

And then I was thrown forward by a force unlike anything human, or even that of a car. I looked to my right side, my arm was gone, torn from my body, while I noticed through the searing pain, the new born vampires were fleeing the scene. If they were dogs, they'd have their tails tucked between their quivering legs as they sped away, dispersing into the surrounding pines and fir trees.

And my Mother, merciful, must have leant me a helping hand after decades of leaving me lost.

It came in the form of an enraged Wolf, hackles raised and teeth bared in a furious snarl.

I breathed hard, although it wasn't necessary; could vampires go into shock?

I watched as his back rippled, like he was having an enormous shiver. But his skin seemed to move and crawl, shifting and shrinking, his limbs getting smaller, but shaping into forearms, elbows, biceps.

His legs thinned and rounded in places, the muscles and tendons becoming more prominent through his skin. His russet fur retracted back into his body, like it was playing in reverse.

His skin browned back to it's normal colour, and his hair became darker and more inky, falling into his face. His teeth were pearly white and gritted hard, his breaths coming out strained and spitting. The veins in his neck and forehead throbbing.

He was bare from head to toe. I knew he usually had shorts attached to his leg when he transformed, but I suppose he had been in a rush to get here.

"Hey," I said weakly, feeling more human than I had since kissing him, and decades before that.

He leaned down on one knee and shifted his arms underneath me, lifting me from the cold damp black top. I was capable of walking, he must have known that.

"I can walk," I mumbled, only in slight protest.

My fight dissipated when his warm skin soldered against me.

"I don't care." He muttered darkly.

He began walking with me swung in his arms, they constricted tightly around me, keeping me still as if I was just a mere human girl against a full grown human man.

My hand was flattened against his chest, and his heart, and his soul. He sucked in a breath, his nostrils flaring. My absent arm was twitching rather grotesquely just by the side of the road, covered in dirt, the wound where it detached from my shoulder was red, but not bleeding. I had no blood to lose.

"Why the fuck were you alone?" he growled, teeth still clenched so his voice came out in a feral noise.

"I needed to be." I whispered, feeling small and weak.

I didn't feel like myself. I hated it, and loved it.

He reached down and picked my limb up from the ground, holding it to my shoulder until it reattached, rapidly healing as if it never occurred at all.

I prepared to stand up, but he kept holding me.

He turned his head and kissed me.

I moaned, grasping the back of his head. I slid from his grasp and stood up straight, but his lips never left mine, his hands gripping my waist forcefully, never letting go.

His tongue trailed fire over my bottom lip, his hand moving to cup my cheek.

I pressed myself harder to his body, knowing how stupid I was being, how selfish, how irrational. But it was all I could do.

He growled against my lips, parting them with his own, unabashed, while sliding his tongue into my mouth to taste. I slipped my own tongue back, sliding against his and licking his lips, sucking his bottom one between my own.

Divine.

I felt him standing erect, extremely aroused—I looked down—and _large_ against my stomach.

He didn't look ashamed either.

Both our head snapped in the direction of the way I came. Without a second thought, he put his body in front of mine, shifting to a crouch.

"No!" I protested.

"I said I'd protect you, that includes now."

His body exploded back into wolf form just before I heard footfalls, gaining distance and getting closer to us. My body seared all over, the bites lingering on my skin.

"Rose!" I heard my family call in unison.

Jacob relaxed slightly.

They approached, Emmett first, the head of the search, flanked by Alice, Jasper and Carlisle. I assumed Edward and Esme stayed behind with Bella. Alice would have told them who showed up before my future disappeared when Jacob intervened.

Emmett marched straight past the livid wolf and embraced me with a sigh.

Even through the eyes of an animal, I could see the seething jealousy.


	8. Fulfilment

Essenza Del Lupo~

_Oops, this chapter is a bit long. Lovin' the feedback and positive reaction to R and J fic. :)_

_A/N A lot goes unsaid about their feelings. Fluff? What fluff? That comes later.  
_

_-birobird xo  
_

* * *

Emmett's hands roamed over my body, taking inventory of my non-existent battle wounds.

I sighed with impatience as he continued to survey my limbs, now merely marked with subtle silverfish scars. I watched Edward have a silent conversation with Jacob, probably filling him in on what they hadn't been fast enough to witness.

I stood off to the side, where Emmett had pulled me, intent on Jacob's still shuddering form. His hackles remained raised in agitation. I watched the moonlight play off the bizarre reddish shades in his fur, bouncing from strand to strand.

"You could have been dead, Rosie. Why didn't you let me come with you?" Emmett growled, eyes fierce.

I tore my eyes away from Jacob, noticing how his ears pricked when my name fell from another man's lips.

"I wanted to be alone." I gave him the same excuse I gave Jacob, but not with the same tenderness.

I realised this and let my eyes fall to the ground in guilt.

I was mistreating him for his concern—what kind of monster was I? Rewarding his love with coldness?

"I-I didn't think. I was foolish, of course, with the situation at the moment." I amended, hoping I didn't sound too formal or detached.

He sighed, curling his arms around me and hugging me to his chest. I looked side-long into Jacob's eyes, larger more bare versions of his human ones.

You couldn't hide your emotions as easily when you were in another form, I suppose.

Perhaps he wasn't even trying anymore. It's possible he wanted me to see. He just refused to admit or confess what we both saw in there.

Maybe I was afraid to accept it too.

Whatever the reason, neither of us was willing, or ready.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Edward asked seriously, raising his eyebrow.

He made a slight inclination of his head in Jacob's direction, indicating he wasn't the one who was really asking.

I looked him straight in the eye, instead of letting them betray my interest and stray to the wolf still poised in an offensive stance just to the left side of Emmett and me.

I swallowed and nodded. Jacob's lip pulled back from his teeth in what resembled a grimace.

He knew I was lying, but Emmett sighed in relief. His breath blew through my hair like a chilling breeze, and could still feel the sting of venom over my arms and neck.

I brushed my hair over my shoulder, absently rubbing my hand over the nape of my neck, feeling the raised bite mark and revelling in how it actually punctured and marked me.

It was surreal, that any harm could be done to my skin, impenetrable as it was.

I marvelled silently while Emmett and Jacob traded places, my husband ghosting closer to Edward to get a good insight into what happened while Jacob inconspicuously sidled up to me.

I kept my eyes on my hands, still rubbing at them without really noticing what I was doing until I felt the soft warm gust of wind left in Jacob's wake. I turned just in time to see his tail disappearing behind a spruce.

Out of sight, but never out of mind.

I knew he wouldn't leave anyway. He would continue to watch me. And I knew because I felt it. On my skin...through to my bones...

His eyes, like his skin, burned me with a power akin to that of fire, but far from the unpleasantness.

Yet both could kill me.

* * *

"She got too close tonight." Edward seethed, stepping towards Bella and closing her protectively in the circle of his arms.

"She had an army." I declared, staring each of my family members in the face, before my eyes reluctantly fell on Bella.

Edward already knew this, yet he reacted the same way as if I were just telling him for the first time.

Tense jaw, murderous eyes and clenched fists.

I was always fascinated with his control, how he did not shatter his human's bones, was beyond my comprehension.

I couldn't fathom being so gentle with every touch and caress I made, although he'd made the sacrifice and decision to be with her, surely he'd made peace with that.

If I were in that situation, and Jacob was as fragile as any human being, like Bella, I deduce that I would have to exercise the same restraint.

Luckily he was as strong as me, if not more, oddly.

Bella's face grew as pale as I'd ever seen it.

"A what?" she choked.

"Six." I clarified, answering the question in everyone's minds.

Alice was perched on the arm of the sofa, Jasper's arm around her shoulders and their fingers linked.

Bella's heart beat increased in speed, rapidly beating inside her chest in a manner that couldn't be regular or healthy for a human. I frowned, and Edward copied me.

"Bella, love. You need to calm down. Please." He murmured, shifting down onto his knees with his hands grasped around hers.

He was lowering himself, physically, and attempting to make her feel somewhat equal or powerful with his submissive stance. He was giving her figurative dominance, even if that could never occur in reality.

I watched their exchange with and odd mixture of jealousy and longing.

Emmett always conveyed authority and supremacy.

But I couldn't compare the two, it wasn't fair. It was cruel.

Jasper looked up at me, somewhat bewildered before I hastily changed my line of thought whilst smothering the sulphurous thoughts inside my chest, focussing on what I was saying to Bella before being interrupted by her reaction, and Edward's.

"I can't—let you do this anymore." She let out in a strangled whimper.

She glanced around at all of us before landing, obviously, on Edward.

He seemed disturbed.

"Do what anymore?" he pressed, confused, placing his hands on her hips as she looked down at him.

"You—you can't keep fighting for me. You guys..." she looked around again, and dropped her eyes, avoiding even Edward's like she was ashamed to make contact, as if she felt guilt for something she didn't even do.

Although, had it no been for her, Victoria, James and Laurent would have carried on with their nomadic lifestyle, fled quite dutifully from our territory, and found no interest in us, besides our living habits. James would have never found Bella's blood appealing, Edward would never have defended her, and he wouldn't have had to kill him to protect Bella.

So, technically, in theory, the events involving Bella did lead up to this point, but her actions held no repercussions. They were all our actions.

No-one in particular was at fault, and the fact that I'd never shown any real affection towards the human, didn't mean I was going to blame her for all the wrongs in the world, or even inflicted upon us, our family.

"I can't let you fight for me." Her voice was quivering and her cheeks glistened with tears.

I surprised everyone, and especially myself when I spoke up to insist she was being daft.

"We're not going to listen to that, Bella." I snapped.

Edward's head whipped around in my direction and he stood up quickly, waiting for an acidic remark that would not come. Instead he stared at me incredulously, just like everyone else in the room, golden eyes fixated upon me as I spoke the words no-one dared to believe would leave my mouth.

"You've signed a contract. You're stuck with us, and that's just too bad. Don't forget that family fights for each other."

"I know. And I'm truly grateful but...I can't stand you putting yourselves in front of me." She answered, and her body language spoke lengths as she leaned into Edward, indicating her fear for us through words, and her overwhelming terror for him with her movements.

"Bella, darling," Esme spoke, as often as she did, with tenderness and a maternal nature that could not be faked, something that she'd been blessed with since living her human life.

It's possibly the outcome of bearing a child so close to changing.

"You can argue and detest this decision all you want. We will fight. You can't change that."

Edward and Carlisle nodded their heads, followed by the rest of us.

Bella was the odd one out, shaking her head in denial.

"I can't change that. But I can _change._" She muttered.

Edward sucked in a breath, almost imperceptible to Bella, but oddly, she seemed to notice every change in his demeanour, every shift in his emotions, as if they sent a shock through her body.

He hung his head in shame now, as if he'd blurted out the suggestion.

I didn't know how I felt about her becoming one of us. To be honest, I hadn't considered it much after we came home from Italy. I had voted 'no' when Bella asked to be changed. I had been the only one on Edward's side. He and I understood the choice, possible more so than the others. We understood the burdens, as did Jasper, yet he would rather her change for practical purposes.

Believe it or not, I was concerned with what Bella was throwing away. A life.

She was killing herself, making this decision. Alice didn't understand; she's known nothing of human life for she has no memory of it. How can you miss something you know nothing about? Emmett is happy either way. Esme was miserable before becoming a vampire, and she's much better off being one, for now she has Carlisle, her mate.

And Carlisle is living forever to amend evil.

He decided Bella should become one of us out of compassion and his fear of losing his son, Edward, again, once she dies.

Which may not be of old age.

But, it's always a 'what if'. What if she decides she wants children? What if she regrets the transformation? Who will she be when she awakens from it? Will she lose her human memories? Will she still have the same connection with my brother? Or will she resent him for taking her life, even though she begged for it?

I don't resent Carlisle for changing me. I do wish sometimes, that he hadn't. And yet, if he'd left me to die, I would not have met my family here.

Somehow that seemed unfathomable to me.

I did have a heart, buried and wounded from decades of dwelling on painful pasts. They shower me like glass shards, stinging, piercing...

"We will fight for you. You aren't changing until your hand is no longer forced." Edward asserted with a flat voice but hard tone.

He was attempting to control his emotions.

"I'm going to take you home." He added, as if that would stop her from making rash decisions tonight.

Or it just might make it harder for her to execute them without a willing vampire present to do the job. I knew Alice was more than eager, Carlisle would if she asked...but I also knew, ultimately, it was Edward that she wished would give in.

Such odd creatures, we are. Humans and Vampires alike. We want, and desire, with no control from our brains, the machine inside us that informs us of right and wrong. It is our heart that decides our destiny, unfortunately.

Bella's wanted immortality, and Edward.

Mine wanted Jacob, irrevocably.

* * *

It took all week for Emmett to let me leave the house alone.

"Alice hasn't seen any activity from the army in days. If there was any danger, she'd have seen it." I promised him with raised eyebrows as he tried to block my access to the door.

"Baby, please. Just...be careful." He rubbed my shoulder and planted a kiss on my mouth.

I smiled at him before gliding past him into the garage. I had on some leather tights, a shirt and a jacket. I was going to have a ride. Just not the conventional kind.

I eyed Edward's new beast of a cycle with an intense excitement for speed. It seemed we craved it, whether it was from us ourselves, or some kind of wheeled vehicle.

I stroked the rear fender with delicate fingers, before grabbing the handle bars and backing it out onto the driveway, the garage door closed for me.

I smiled to myself, feeling the grasping hands of escape edging me closer to the wonderful machine. The sleek silver design was like water and steel, slim line and cutting...aerodynamic...

Basically fucking fast.

I hitched my leg over that bad boy, revved the engine and took off, with my wheels spitting gravel up into the air. My hair blew around my face, whipping like steel strings.

I thought about life and what you wanted from it.

Could you live forever and never have fulfilment?

Or could you have fulfilment and live forever without realising?

When did you know? And how did you know?

I could have been riding the bike for hours, it was often difficult for me to keep track of time. Especially when I was lost inside.

My life felt like a hedge maze. I was constantly meeting dead ends, no way of seeing ahead, stumbling blindly through the dark shrubs to find the centre...absolution.

Or a way out.

Before I knew it, I'd entered Forks. I stopped up at the shoulder of the road, feeling a sense of Deja Vu from the night Victoria attacked.

It was silent and scarce of any life, human or animal. I looked around, nudging the kickstand with the toe of my boot.

I shook my hair out a little. I felt like I was waiting. For what? I didn't know.

* * *

~0~ March, 1933~0~

My mind flashed with hurt and anger. Acrid thoughts ran rampant through my head, like bleach, stinging, igniting.

I lay face down in bed, curled around my pillows with my head buried under the blankets. I kept crying, my eyes wouldn't stop. I tried to block the image of my soul mate with another woman, with a girl I thought was somewhat of a friend, a sister to me.

He held her the way he's supposed to hold me. He touched and loved her the way he was supposed to touch and love me, on our wedding night. And Isabelle! How could she bend to his whim, surely she knew better than to bed another woman's promised man?

She's nothing more than a tramp! I was so foolish to think I could treat her as my own flesh and blood, for they did not do this to each other, betray trust.

I could see it replay in my head, over and over, like it was burnt into my eyes from a branding iron. I felt like one of Daddy's cattle, having metal seared into my flesh. The physical agony felt as though it would be easier to bear.

When we used to holiday on my Grandparent's ranch in Vermont, I would watch my Daddy and Pa brand the cattle and horses. They bucked and shrieked.

So much pain, for so little purpose.

I didn't hear the door open, nor did I realise I had company within my room until I felt a hand smoothing my hair from my face. I sniffled and rolled over onto my back, eyes fixed upon Royce who leaned over me with a flat expression.

"I don't wish to speak with you." I croaked, turning away.

He grabbed my shoulders and lifted me into a sitting position. I squirmed against his hands, they felt dirty against my skin.

"Rose. For Christ's sake!" he growled, shaking me harshly.

I stopped struggling and looked at him, dead in the eye.

"You will forget everything you saw tonight." He said, grating against my nerves with his hard tone.

The look of him made my eyes hurt, my stomach churn. The stench of liquor came off of him in wafts. I wiped a hand under my eyes and glared at him.

"How can I?" I whispered brokenly.

"You will. We will get married. You will mourn your mother. And we will move on." He stated, clearly forcefully.

"But you..."

"She meant nothing to me." He scowled, as if I'd somehow offended him.

"Okay." I agreed.

"You're still mine." He said. "And we will live on as if this never happened."

* * *

~0~Present Day~0~

A noise.

I spun around. If I had a heart, it would have been seizing with fright. That fact spoke volumes, as Vampires were rarely taken by surprise.

"What did I tell you about going out on your own?" that familiar husky voice demanded.

I smiled to myself and turned to face him, prepared for any form.

Human and half-naked, Jacob approached.

I narrowed my eyes at him and folded my arms across my chest.

"Have you been following me?" I asked, but it didn't bother me.

He looked guilty though, and I got my answer when he remained mute. I nodded in understanding before he clutched my forearm.

"You shouldn't be here." He choked.

"You've crossed the treaty line."

My eyes widened and I looked around me as if the line would appear and I could step over to the safe boundary.

"Why don't you seem more worried?" I wondered aloud.

"Because I'm the only one patrolling this area. I had to change back into human form in case they heard my thoughts about you. I've managed to block it pretty well lately." He seemed satisfied and smug with his accomplishment to conceal.

I felt the heat of his hand through my jacket and against my ice cold skin. I looked down at where his hand connected with my body, feeling tight and nervous in my stomach.

I glanced up at him, and he shifted uncomfortably before dropping his hand, not knowing what to do with me.

"Take me to your house." I requested, feeling obtuse and naive like a regular teenage girl.

Jacob looked astonished, embarrassed, cross and finally, incredulous. Why did everybody look at me like that lately?

"You've got to be kidding me! Take you further into the Res? You're a vampire! They will _kill_ you if they get the chance. I can't _give them_ that chance."

His hands were on my shoulders now, tight and firm, but not authoritative. His fingers rubbed against me softly, comfortingly.

"Please?" I asked, furrowed brow as I caressed his taught forearm gently.

He looked at my fingers then with lidded eyes and a lost focus. He swallowed loudly before his nostrils flared, and I knew he wasn't going to say no.

"Fine." He muttered.

"But the first sign of anything, you run. I'll follow you to conceal your scent, but do not hesitate, because they will catch up to you." He warned fervently, brown eyes certain and penetrating.

I nodded.

He nodded.

He got on the bike, and I after him, wrapping my arms around his bare torso before he pushed the stand back with his calf and we sped off into the forbidden abyss.

I shuddered against him, feeling the muscles in his abdomen tense and rippled, his shoulders moving slightly with every lean around each corner on the road.

We made it to his house in minutes.

Oddly, I found the red shack quaint...and homey. I couldn't imagine Jacob relaxing in our Vampire lair.

I could see from a few hundred yards down the road that there was a light on in the house, occupied by his father, Billy, obviously.

We pulled over to the side of the road again and I waited as Jacob pushed the bike into the shrubbery. I cringed as I thought of the branches scratching patterns into the paint. He cringed, too, but there was no other option.

"Ah, finally, a woman with taste." He chuckled, light-hearted and at ease, for once.

"Machinery, mechanics...it's my thing." I murmured, smirking.

He was silent with a contemplative frown on his face.

We walked, quiet and undetected until we reached the driveway.

"He's drifting off on the sofa, he was watching football." I shrugged, not caring to clarify who was playing who.

Sport wasn't a blip under my radar.

Without warning, Jacob's enormous hand enveloped mine, and he pulled me along the side of the house, ducking under the windows and keeping to the shadows.

He reached for a window, inside was dark, but I could discern everything that lay within it. A bed, a bookcase, a nightstand and a closet.

Not much.

But it was Jacob. He lived on the outside.

He lifted the window and motioned for me to go inside first. I slipped in with ease, no sound, no effort, no strength even required. It was like I was liquid, sliding over glass.

I stood in the middle of the room before Jacob joined me, hoisting himself inside as I watched the door, the light from outside framed the wood in a yellow line.

Jacob's body heat radiated through to my toes as he stood behind me. I could hear his breathing, an unusual pattern, his heart beat was irregular.

I breathed hard, too. He came closer, hands curling around my shoulders, chest pressing into my back, hips against hips...

I breathed out shakily, licking my lips with a fierce anticipation.

"Rose." He breathed, and I felt his nose move along the curve of my neck, his hot hand brushing my hair out of the way.

"Jacob." I breathed in response.

He shuddered when I spoke his name, pressing his face to my shoulder. I felt his lips move infinitesimally over my skin, brushing like the tip of a feather.

I didn't dare move my hands.

They stayed at my sides, unwilling to participate yet.

My chest clenched, and my legs quivered bizarrely.

His tongue was like a heated coin against my earlobe. I squeezed my thighs together, feeling a throb of massive power.

He was barely touching me, and I was losing my grip on reality, on sense and judgment altogether.

Is this it?

Fulfilment?

I couldn't answer that yet.

There was no doubt I desired this. There is no doubt, I would go through with it. There is no doubt there would be consequences, that could be tragic for both of us.

But two people, both not entirely human, but acting as though not death nor mutated genes inhabited their bodies, needed each other.

"You smell..." he inhaled. "Like _him._" He spoke softly, but through gritted teeth.

He grazed them down my neck before shifting my jacket open at the collar, revealing more of my shoulder to his mouth.

My stomach fluttered, and I wondered what he was going to do.

I hadn't the faintest idea of what.

His right hand was palm-flat against my hip bone. I like the feel of it there, warming my body. I used my hand then, covering his with it and showing him where I wanted the contact.

He hissed and bucked his hips against my ass when I placed his hand between my legs.

"Oh," I gasped.

Quietly, restrained, he was snarling, like a dog, actually.

It would have been comical, if we weren't in such an intense situation. I would have chuckled, at the moment, it made me press his middle and forefinger harder against the shear, leather fabric of my pants over my crotch, where the pressure was undoubtedly building because of him.

I was bent at the waist slightly, and I suddenly thought of him taking me from behind. So animalistic, passionate, so...great.

I shook and quavered, feeling myself begin to grow moist with such images in my mind.

He pushed my shirt up and I could have cried with pleasure as his fingertips grazed the skin under my breast, still concealed by my black lace bra.

"Skin, is so...cold...so..." he broke off with a groan.

I felt the elastic around my back loosen, his hands roaming up my back must have unclasped my bra. I sighed and my breath hitched in my throat, intoxicated, as he closed his hand around my breast.

"Be with me." He growled into my ear.

"Please."


	9. Universally Divine

Essenza Del Lupo~

* * *

My breath came out in short exhales and gasps. I couldn't control the reaction my body had to his touch. So primal, so instinctual, so rough.

The Gods were creating catastrophe; combining enemies in a taught mixture of fire and ice. If neither could be reigned in, the result could be cataclysmic, shattering, tangible.

But if I knew Jacob, and I understood what he felt; I knew he wouldn't let me burn in the inferno.

And I'd keep him as close to my heart as I could.

However, we could both destroy each other. Ice, cold wind, water; everything I embodied, could douse the fire, but his flames could engulf me, too. We were playing with something so volatile and temperamental.

It could go either way.

"Rosalie." He breathed into my hair, his teeth grazing on the shell of my ear.

"Please." He said again, waiting for affirmation as his hands hovered just over my skin.

"I—I...we need to—s-stop, I can't—" I stammered in response.

My fingers were clawing my thighs, gripping the slippery fabric that stuck tight to my stone skin.

His hands made purchase against my hips, tightening their hold and pressing my ass back into his hips with a soft thrust. I could hear the pressure building in his chest, smothering a growl that was vibrating through his body.

He liked that.

I unconsciously rubbed myself against his erection, needing to give him what he wanted. Not because he asked, but because I had to, of my own volition.

He mapped out my body with his finger tips, ignoring my stammered denial, as did I.

"Why do we need to stop?" he asked, letting his hot hand travel back to my crotch.

His heart beat was fast, staccato and his blood was unbelievable hot, pulsing beneath his skin. So easily torn, his flesh; so easily spilled. Yet his touch yielded against my own body as if we were mere humans to each other. Same strength, same vulnerability.

"I can feel your desire, feel it...smell it," he inhaled deeply, a shuddering snarl building in his throat as he continued to whisper to me.

I bit my lip, leaning my head back against his shoulder as he fingered the waist band of my pants.

"I know it. It's calling to me through your body, your soul. It's talking to mine." His tongue darted out to my neck, tasting, sniffing then groaning.

I clenched my teeth, but spoke back in a broken whisper of dissent.

"I don't have a soul." I reminded him.

"I see it in you, Rosalie...If you don't have a soul, than you're an object. How can I imprint on an object?"

I shut my eyes and shook my head against his reasoning.

It couldn't be possible.

"I'm the minority." I told him shakily, trying to stop myself, while my mind begged him to keep touching me.

"Stop making excuses," he ground out, agitated. "Don't say that, either." He added.

"What if it's the truth?" I murmured.

His thumbs hooked on either side of my pants, tugging them down in one fluid movement, leaving me to drop my jaw in surprise at his bluntness.

"Then I'd rather listen to lies." He answered.

His hands turned my body around, his eyes already downcast on the bare half of my body. I glared; he was getting what he wanted, why couldn't I?

In the minimal light, my eyes could still see everything. I could pinpoint the fraying threads of Jacob's shirts, strewn over his floor. I could see the infinitesimal peeling of paint just under the window sill, probably caused from moisture seeping through the walls.

His scent was thickly layered all around me, strong and fresh. I decided that denying him would only make me want to go through with this more.

I clutched his denim cut-offs, my hands moving like the strikes of a cobra, pulling the button open at the top. I was too rough, and not focussed completely, not enough to keep from ripping the zipper out of the fabric. I dropped it with a smirk as Jacob began tugging impatiently at my shirt. He looped a finger under the strap of my bra under my slight cotton coverage.

He gave up in frustration as I wouldn't co-operate. I was too busy trying to get his pants off. I needed to see him.

"If we do this..." he sounded nervous now.

"I'm changed forever."

My face was just below his. I exhaled as I leaned closer, his chest rising in time with mine now, but still too fast. I felt the narrow strip of hair sprinkled from his naval to the area still concealed by his shorts.

His skin was moist and so hot that it warmed my hands.

His eyes were lidded as I raised mine to look at him. I elevated my chin, aligning our mouths so they were a breath apart. The wish of a kiss lingered between our untouched lips.

Both begged but neither received, neither gave in.

"We're already changed forever." I countered.

"But if we do this..." he repeated, stressing the point in his quiet gravelly tone.

"You're not only marking me. I'm marking you, too. This is ours. _I_ can't share _you_, and _you_ can't throw _me_ away."

I nodded, our eyes burning into each other's. I dipped the tips of my fingers between his skin and the shorts, pushing them down his hips to reveal his thighs, the perfect 'v' of his pelvis and his extremely hard cock, now resting in the palm of my hand.

I closed my eyes and squeezed his length. I was barely able to touch my forefinger with my thumb as they curled around him. I eyed his length in appreciation and...hunger.

"I wish...I wish I—" he grunted as I stroked him once, hard.

"I want to do this right." He confessed, eyes slightly wide and innocent, as if for the first time, he was uncertain.

"I want you to think about this all the time. I want this to block out any memories of being with _him._"

I stared at him for a moment, slowly nodding in acceptance, although I would pay for it later.

I silently agreed before I felt the fabric of my shirt fall from my arms, torn in two. He pulled my bra off next as I kicked my boots off. I was dwarfed against his size again. I felt so breakable.

"How are you going to keep this from your pack?" I asked only partially concerned for the moment.

Jacob initiated further skin contact as his hands lingered the area above my ass, tapping the two shallow dimples on the small of my back and pressing me closer to his torso and into his berth of heat.

"I'll find a way to block it." He vowed, distracted.

My hands flattened against his chest, dragging gently down his abdomen and lavishing in the sight of his muscles tightening as I traced them. He quivered with anticipation of pleasure, placing one, delicate, searing kiss on my collar bone, then over my heart on my left breast.

My body reacted, arching into his to feel what he did. Like he was controlling me. Or, perhaps, neither of us had any control at all; and we were the Universe's puppets. We could be magnets, placed on either side of the earth, attracted together not from chance, but actual physics. It was something real and material, constructing a premise to our mutual discovery.

The definition of probability, of math, not just theoretical, but a divine order.

That was possible. So was the chance that these events were the wrong turn in the grand scheme of things.

Nevertheless, the passion between enemies was ignited. Not deluge, not lies, not time, nor absence could blow that candle out.

It was the consequences. All actions have equal and opposite reactions.

But for now, presently, I was enjoying this.

Kicking philosophies of our connection from the foreground of my thoughts, I elicited a guttural moan when Jacob's finger invaded the slick crest between my thighs.

My self control grounded to a halt like a carriage on a railway, screeching wheels and metallic dust. I grasped his forearms, pushing him backwards with force. He stumbled slightly, his cramped bedroom barely able to accommodate his hulking form.

His claves hit the edge of his single sized bed and his arms shot out to drag me down with him. Brown, dark irises bored into mine as we felt different points of contact all over our bodies. My knee nudged the outside of his thigh. My nipples grazed against his chest and I shuddered at his heat, surprised that the sheets of his bed hadn't combusted.

His right hand hovered to my cheek as I leaned close to his face. I moved my lips to kiss his fingertips as they fluttered over my cheekbone, moving slowly down, cupping my jaw. Jacob was fast and rapid in his movements as he grasped me around my naked waist, flipping me over and pinning me on the bed.

He fisted the sheets and clenched his teeth in concentration, closing his eyes. I indulged in touching him, scraping my nails softly over his chest, his ribcage, circling around his waist and down the curve of his spine.

His hefty physique was the complete opposite to my sharp feminine features, curves meeting muscle and sinewy masculinity.

"You know, you're sort of beautiful." I murmured without thinking.

A smirk emerged on his lips, but his eyes remained closed, every inch of his body tensed.

"I've heard that before." He muttered, opening one eye to appraise me.

His hand torched a line of fire down my side, circling my hip bone before slipping to my bare thigh, shooting an immense sensation of pleasure through me. It was like I'd been numb for my whole life, and only now was it beginning to wear off.

A billion nerves in the human body, all of which were frozen in my own; time-locked but still existent. They roared to life the moment I felt him. The blistering heat that radiated from every fibre of his body absorbed into my finger tips, my palms, my stomach, my legs, my sex, my whole being.

His hand rested on my knee before he lifted it to his hip, our skin rubbing.

I lifted my leg to his opposite hip as he replaced his clenched hand to the bed, right beside my head. He curled his fingers in my hair, lowering himself slightly and touching his forehead to mine. Both panting and immeasurably impatient, I felt like I might shatter if I couldn't feel him soon.

I looked down between us, licking my lips and sighing at the sight of his cock resting just over my pubic bone, pressing into me, but still not close enough.

No words were uttered when he finally let his eyes fall on my face. A small, infinitesimal muscle perked at the corner of my mouth, turning up in a smile of subtle encouragement.

Inside, I was waging a fight to give him time to relax.

I was about to say his name in a whisper until I felt his hips pull back from mine, his head at my entrance and within a split second, thrusting into me.

"Ja—_cob!" _I whimpered, shocked and overcome with sensation.

Hot, hot, hot.

He burned. We burned.

"Rosalie," he grunted my full name.

No nickname, no moniker. Just my name, as if it were a word of highest importance or the holiest of oaths.

It was incredible, to feel him moving inside me, his taught features, the quaking of his body around mine and the sounds he made. I gasped as he pulled out and thrust harder into my slick centre.

"Oh!" I was breathless; impossible.

I felt myself tighten uncontrollably every time he pushed into me. He groaned and shook his head, breathing out in short huffs. His pace was slow and measured to begin with.

My hands wondered of their own accord to his lower back, then his ass, urging him to push harder, deeper, faster.

"Please, please!" I begged, furrowing my eyebrows in overwhelmed need.

The heat, the feeling of him, of everything here and now. It overrode anything and everything else in the universe right now, whatever had happened in the past and whatever will in the future.

This would stay real and more significant than anything else.

Connected and alive, or as alive as the undead could be. I felt reanimated by his life force as our bodies bonded together, entwined in the ecstasy of sex and the link forged between us.

Desire, as palpable as if it was written in words, flowed through our bodies, connected in the most intimate act.

Jacob growled incomprehensibly, lowering his head to my breasts, his tongue circling my taught, erect nipple before taking it in his mouth, sucking and kissing. I gripped his hair, curling my fingers around it as I felt a moan and gasp echo from my parted lips.

His hips ground into mine, causing friction on sensitive throbbing flesh.

"Yes!" I whimpered, desperate. "Again—" I breathed.

"Again!"

He pumped me harder, more harshly than before, creating an air of rough desperation and panic. I wasn't ready for this to end, and I couldn't get close enough. I couldn't meld us together, I couldn't hold him to me for eternity.

I was flooded with sheer need to consume, to claim, to feel.

My clit throbbed and shivered sparks of electric pleasure each time he thrust into me, our bodies growing slick where they connected.

I watched between us as he slid in and out of me, his stomach muscles clenching, his thighs rhythmic with their patterns.

He lost his rhythm for a second, but it was enough for me to snarl in loss at the force, the speed, the pressure. It was definitely building, but my body took control of the situation. With inhuman speed, we switched places and I had Jacob pinned on his back like I was before.

He was able to reach deeper within me now that I was on top.

I could see him better, he could see me, despite his shock at my sudden movements.

I drank him in, gathering his hand to press it to my breast, and then the other one. He held them there, massaging and squeezing as I bucked my hips against him, earning a rumble and masculine grunt.

His heart thrummed while mine remained silent, but I could have sworn I felt it jump to life, but it would forever remain in the shadow of my immortality.

My palms were flat against his sculpted chest, ceasing leverage to push harder, to gain optimum pleasure from this position which clouded my senses and left me quivering to the very centre of my bones.

The pressure continued to build. I lifted myself off him slightly, my entire body heated by his, that it was almost painful to break the contact.

He snarled viciously, grasping my waist with both hands and pulling me off the bed with him. I was slammed, quite violently against the wall, which made the entire house shudder, but did nothing to disrupt the sleeping man outside.

I sucked in a breath through my teeth, reaching the peak of sensations. I could feel myself begin to clamp down on his shaft, as he pumped me, growing harder and faster as he grew close himself. I could sense him nearing the edge of his climax. I fell before him. I cried out as my body tensed up, and I felt my walls tighten around Jacob.

He shuddered and growled, his hand pressed to the wall beside my head. My legs were still wrapped in a vice around his hips as he thrust inside me again, exhausting my energy as if I was merely human and not an inexhaustible vampire.

I gripped his hair again with both hands, pulling his mouth to mine in a frenzy of aftershocks that rocked my body from this world to the next, earth shattering.

I felt like crying in wonder and happiness and triumph and pleasure.

So many feelings, so many channels of energy that left me feeling so pent up but so tired at the same time. It wasn't something I was used to.

I opened my mouth and his tongue entered as his hips still rocked into mine, as if he'd never get tired, never get enough.

He pushed me into another orgasm which vibrated through my core, up my spine, curling my toes and tingling through my nerves to my brain.

I was soaking wet between my thighs. Jacob pulled out all the way before forcing himself back in, my fingers clutching to his shoulders, digging into his flesh.

Eyes wide, my head fell back against the wall again as his face contorted and his eyes shut. His teeth clenched as he breathed hard through them, a groan escaping once I felt his hot cum spurt inside me. I breathed a sigh of completion.

I was complete.

We remained quiet and still for so many moments.

I could feel my moisture running down my thighs, coating the both of us, but neither one moved.

His head was on my shoulder and I felt his hot breaths against my collar bone.

I was pressed between him and the wall, unable to move anyway, but he stepped back, arms snaking around my waist, our bodies still intimately joined, and sat down on his bed, laying back. I gingerly lifted myself off of him, splaying myself over his body and planting a kiss to his neck.

His finger twirled around a strand of my hair.

I didn't know what to say. I was still in immobile shock.

"Do you feel...different?" he asked uncertainly in the dark.

I frowned and lifted my face to look at his.

"I...don't know...I...it was so intense." I stammered.

"I—I wanted to be good for you." He replied sheepishly.

"You mean..." I frowned harder in surprised and an attempt to comprehend.

"That...that you're a, well, you _were_ a virgin?" I whispered.

He didn't answer, just one curt nod.

I was also curious to find a fresh flood of relief in my system with the knowledge that he'd never touched anyone else like that, even if they were human.

"Why me?" I asked, feeling like that was all I had on my mind, the main nagging answer I needed to know from him.

Jacob frowned this time.

"There was never a choice. It just happened. Nobody controls it. Certainly not me." He answered.

"So...you wouldn't have chosen me if you didn't imprint?" I queried, hurt by the fact, but understanding it.

"Why does it matter?" he evaded softly.

I sighed and lowered my head to his chest, resting it under his jaw. His fingers splayed comfortably in my hair. I slithered my arm around his waist, bare chest to bare chest.

I pondered this for a moment.

"Do you think this is the Universe's way of resolving our...enemy status?" I wondered aloud.

A rumbled of a chuckled resounded in his chest.

"That's a pretty stupid plan then. I have a feeling that this is going to make everyone, extremely..." he took a breath, "angry."

He sounded bitter and resentful.

"Are you sorry for imprinting on me? Do you wish it had never happened?" I asked.

When he remained silent, I sat up, turning my body to stare down at him.

He stared back, his skin looked almost blue in the moonlight, darkened in hue.

"I don't know." Was his resolute answer.

I bit my lip and turned away from his sight, my eyes locking on my clothing as I considered getting redressed and leaving.

"But..." he added hastily. "What I'm saying now is that...I don't regret _this._" He motioned to both of us, still stark naked.

"I'll carry this with me every day. I'll keep you in here," he grabbed my hand and put it over his beating heart.

"Even if it gets me killed."

I watched his face, cloaked with that look he gave me, unbitten by lies or insincerity. It was honesty that leeched from his pores, trust, worship.

I soaked in the sound of his heart beat, steadying beneath my fingers.

"What exactly are the...perks...of this 'imprinting'?" I prodded gently, still pondering his words.

He sat up in bed, brushing my hair over my shoulder.

"I'll always feel you, feel what you feel, hints of it. I can find you if you need me. I've claimed you, so that means I'll know if someone else has touched you. I felt it when you did..." He had his eyes fixed on my shoulder, but they strayed back to my eyes.

I felt nauseated with guilt, for so many reasons. Guilt for betraying Jacob and guilt for feeling guilty about betraying him in the first place, when, I shouldn't be.

"It comes with a whole dump load of feelings. I'll always want you like this. All the time. I can't hurt you, not intentionally, because it would kill me, or I'd kill myself. I need to protect you, even if you don't ask or don't need it." his eyes blazed.

"Whatever tries to come near you will be obliterated. Human or vampire...or...wolf." he choked out, swallowing hard but continuing on with his list of promises.

"I'm inexplicably bound. Whatever you want, whatever you need from me, I'll give you, or at least try until I die."

I gulped at the concept of Jacob's mortal life expiring.

"Hey, what's wr—"

The phone chimed out in the living room and we both stiffened as we heard Billy waking up and wheeling to the kitchen to answer it.

I flung myself through the room, akin to the rapid blast of a hurricane, but my trail left no evidence of my presence. I went through the window as Billy approached his son's room. Jacob stumbled into a pair of boxers as Billy opened the door. I heard the rapid heartbeat of his father, sped up by what is likely to be anxiety.

I eavesdropped from below Jacob's window.

"You too tired to go out?" he asked, pushing his door open and flicking the light switch on.

Jacob grunted in resignation, but in a way that asked 'what do they want me to do?'.

Billy heaved a breath, distressed, "Sam needs you. There's been a breach of the treaty."


	10. A Warning

Essenza Del Lupo~ _A/N This is a fairly short chapter, but as I said in the first few, they are going to be short ones, unless I get carried away, which I have in some. My bad. Anywho, whats cracka-lackin? I'm stoked to finally be updating this shiz. I have major plot twists for this-cant wait to share them with you!_

_Thankyous going out to all my regular reviewers and of course,** labeano2002**, for being my exceptional Beta.  
_

* * *

~March, 1933~

"I would never wish to insult Evelyn Hale by saying she will be missed. By God's ears, he will hear, and in our hearts understand that no matter how hard we try, we can never say how much this world will feel empty without her."

I swallowed thickly, eyeing the tall glass of stagnate water to the left of my speech paper. My hands shook as they clenched around the printed words on dry old parchment from my father's at-home office. It was dusty and dull.

I had a meticulously prepared speech to recite at my Mother's wake, but I found myself deviating from the generic script.

I spoke from somewhere within me, not from the plain black print of cliché goodbyes and superficial sorrow.

I wrapped my every grievance in the tones I exuded, expelling the sadness that had hidden itself inside the walls of my body since her death, and until today, like it was a choking black smoke, polluting the air I breathed.

I pressed my palms down onto the oak podium, raising my eyes regretfully to the sea of melancholy below, careful not to shift my gaze back to the open casket to my right, where Evelyn will rest forever, a gaunt web of bones veiled with porcelain flesh.

"I remember when I was... five, or so, playing around the creek that ran down the back of the Hale estate. I was by myself, until my mother came to join me in a long flowing white sun dress and violet hat. I had a butterfly in my hand..."

The entire room stared at me curiously, some intent on my off-subject tale, and others frowning in confusion at the segue into my childhood.

"...it had fluttered to the ground in a spasm and I gently took it into my hands, wondering why it no longer moved at all... Evelyn told me that, 'although birth is a beautiful creation of God, so is death. The warm mercy of finishing a lifetime by the hands of our creator is just another part of being, what makes us alive in the first place, the possibility of dying. Some leave us slowly, and after being around for decades; other flames burn out quickly, some even before the first fruitful breath they take...

And others leave us behind unexpectedly, through trauma, evil or..." I took my first glance at her, a breathless body and back to my rapt audience. "...illness.'"

I cleared my thick throat again, feeling the hot sensation of emotion run from my eyes.

I tried to smile through it, in sad regret.

"I also know that one year from today, I'm not going to be mourning the anniversary of my mother's passing." I said bluntly as I caught the reproachful look of my older brother.

"But that's because I won't have to. She'll know that one day to remember her every year, isn't important when I will think about her... _every... day_."

I glanced down at my hands, my knuckles having gone white as I clenched my fists around the speech paper.

I lifted them again, nodded my head slowly and turned to leave. Henry stood up from his chair, and confusion swept over me as I remembered him having refused to speak at the wake. Instead of approaching the podium, he came to me and held me in a firm embrace, so tight and suffocating that it was painful yet I found myself grasping at his jacket, clinging to my brother because I was sad.

It was sadness that took my breath away, and made my muscles ache with exhaustion even in the wake of a dozen days rest. As he escorted me back to my seat next to Royce, I shook my head.

"I need... air," I spluttered, poking around in my purse for a handkerchief.

Royce stood up then, jutting his chin out stubbornly before taking my hand and releasing my grip on Henry's forearm. I let go, reluctantly, so as not to make a scene or be disrespectful.

I had only my black dress and a cardigan on, my coat having been stowed away in the lobby before we entered the chapel. But I could bear the cold, because I didn't want to risk opening my mouth to my partner.

I pulled my gloves back on as we strolled out into the courtyard to the back right hand corner of the church grounds. The weather was only slightly biting against my skin, so it didn't explain the chill in my bones.

Guiding me gently to a stone seat that was dotted with a sickly green moss. I sat down anyway, ignoring the uncomfortable coolness of the hard stone as I dropped my face into my hands, the heat rising in my face enough to compensate for the lack of warmth in the rest of my body.

"Come now, Rose. She wouldn't want you to cry." He cooed into my ear, a reassuring pat to my back.

I nodded, although I wished he wouldn't speak about her as if he was fond of her, or knew her from Eve. Because he didn't, at all, and on more than one occasion, I had the inkling that they despised each other.

Then again, whatever worked for Daddy's bank, right?

"Of course," I sucked in a deep cleansing breath, my lungs flooded with the scent of wild flowers blossoming in shrubs and trees around the garden.

Royce grasped my hand, and he did it in such a tender way that made my iciness toward him dissipate. Perhaps now was the time to mend bridges and forget his indiscretions. God taught forgiveness while Jesus preached it, right? Maybe if I allowed him to redeem himself, we could fall back into an elegant normalcy.

I felt him place a hard velvety jewellery box in my palm. He wrapped my fingers around it, squeezing them to punctuate his movement, as if begging me to accept his gift and in turn, accept him in all his imperfect glory.

I glanced down at the dark blue fabric. He used his thumb and forefinger to prise it open, and there, nestled in the navy was an engagement ring. I looked back up at Royce.

"You're proposing to me at my mother's funeral?" I deadpanned.

A muscle in his cheek twitched in irritation before he explained.

"You're mother wouldn't have wanted you to wallow, right? This is my offer to you; this is your ticket to moving on," he told me in a low gravelly tone.

A small smile stretched my mouth, cracking my dry lips as I realised that although I'd lost someone dearest to me, I'd gained the care of another: my own eternal nurturer.

I acquiesced with a small nod, and once the cold gold slid over my finger, a dead weight clamped around my heart. Royce called it security; I would have called it a warning.

~Present Day~

There was frantic movement from Jacob's bedroom before he closed the door on his father, telling him that he needed a moment before he left.

The wind suddenly stopped composing a melody, leaving a deadened silence around me like a thick presence. I whipped my head around, feeling everything hanging on the edge, everything was at stake.

Jacob came to the window, sliding effortlessly through the battered remains of the wooden frame before dropping to his feet beside me. His hair, ruffled and blackened wire, peaked at the top of his forehead. It was in disarray from my fingers. Looking down at the perpetrators, I expected to see a pair of black gloves. But I simply saw marbleised skin, and a naked ring finger.

"Run, Rose," he growled anxiously, a monopolising grip on my arms.

"Go. As fast as you can, and don't stop. I'll stay behind you, masking your scent—"

"What if they know already?" I ground out in subtle refusal.

He pulled me towards the forest, a possessive glint in his eye as he breathed out heavily through clenched teeth.

"Go. Please," he snarled, shaking me harshly.

"What about—"

"Rosalie! Do this for me!" Desperation was leaking into his voice, his form already shuddering with the urge to transform.

He released his hold on me, his lips pressing earnestly to mine before he pushed me in the opposite direction, his muscles rippling with unbridled instinct, throwing his human body into that of a stalking wolf. I took off at light speed, feeling him follow closely behind, but not that it would be obvious had anyone from the pack seen us.

I went southeast, towards our side of the treaty line. If I had a beating heart, it would have been cracking my ribs with the impact it made inside my chest, just from the fear and thrill.

I could hear nothing and no one around me besides the trampling giant feet of my would-be pursuer. Jacob's heart beat was heavy and staccato in my ears, thundering through the trees like a drumming song dedicated to me.

The landscape flicked past my eyes like a roll of green and brown film. My speed was coming to a climax where I would stay and go no faster. Hopefully it was fast enough.

There was a disruption, and as I carefully cast my gaze to my right, a wolf intercepted my path, planting his feet right in front of me. I evaded quickly, arcing around the massive mammal until it caught up with me and I felt a heavy wet jaw clamp around my ankle.

I screamed, spinning out and habitually curling forward to grab onto the hackles of my attacker. I pulled, which made the animal howl and release my leg. I flew forward, rolling into a crouch behind him on defence mode.

"It was an accident; I didn't mean to cross into your territory!" I lied, shouting.

"I belong to the Cullen's, I'm not a threat. Please. I was... ambushed." I quickly supplied, an easy way to cloak my real motivations to breaking the rules.

Jacob came barrelling onto the scene as the other wolf pounced. They collided and it could have easily been explained as an accident and not an intervention or protection. Would they condemn him for saving a Vampire?

To distract, Jacob somewhat 'fell' out of his wolf form—stumbling onto his human legs before collapsing at the base of a fir tree just a few feet from me. The need to go to him was unbearable, but rationally, I knew he wasn't hurt.

The large grey wolf that had caught up with me growled menacingly as I stared at their second in command.

"I'm no threat! I was attacked by a newborn and forced to cross the treaty line to alert the pack for help," I explained in a pained, forced cry.

The wolf advanced slowly.

"I'm not a threat!" I repeated loudly with my palms held facing up.

The wolf convulsed and I thought for one insane, split-second, that he was having a seizure until his limbs shrunk, his fur disappeared and he turned back into a man—or woman?

"Leah, stay back," Jacob ordered, getting to his feet lithely.

Leah crossed her arms over her bare chest in open defiance, unabashed about her naked form.

"I saw the newborn—"

"Then why didn't you go after it, you idiot?" she screeched, her face reddening with frustration.

I stood back against the tree behind me, and although I knew one of the wolves was on my side, I still felt extremely disconcerted being surrounded by two of their kind; especially one that looked and sounded particularly unhinged.

"It was out of sight before I got a trail on it, and I thought it would be more important to stop you from destroying one of the good guys in case it started a war between us."

"That doesn't sound so bad to me," she sneered.

"Wait for the alpha's command, Leah," he growled angrily, taking an inconspicuous step closer to me.

He'd wedged himself between us without her noticing.

Two more wolves appeared.

"Sam, she's one of the Cullen's."

The large black dog trotted closer to Jacob before slipping behind a tree and reappearing clothed with a pair of denim cut-offs.

"A Cullen?" he asked gruffly, eyeing me.

I nodded vehemently.

"I'm Rosalie Cullen. I had no choice but to cross the treaty line. I needed help with a newborn that came onto our territory," I told him, reiterating the story I fabricated for Leah.

Jake nodded in agreement.

"I saw it, but it was too far off to follow. I thought I'd keep Leah from starting an even bigger fight with the bloodsuckers from Forks by intervening before it got ugly."

Sam nodded and clapped a hand over Jacob's shoulder.

"Good call, but next time, wait until I give the orders, okay?"

Jacob didn't answer at all that time and made no reaction besides clenching his jaw, the muscles in his face tightening slightly as if restraining himself from spitting out a few choice expletives.

"Leah, see if you can trace the scent along the boundary. Jared, regroup with the others and spread across the res in case the vamp comes back."

The wolf turned around and ran off while Leah gave me one last sneer of disgust before exploding back into her second body and running after Jared.

That still left me outnumbered by Sam and Jacob.

"I'll make an exception this time, Miss Cullen, but only for the good of our truce with Carlisle. Try not to let this happen again." He addressed me directly, only with a slight twinge of reluctance before he motioned with his head for me to leave.

I stepped forward, and walked at a sluggish pace around them to show my respect before fleeing the tense atmosphere, crossing back over to our own land in no time at all.

Upon arriving home, it was only Edward who was wise to the knowledge of any confrontation I had. I took a lengthy shower once I got upstairs, rinsing any and all scents from my body, cleaning away the fear and intimacies.

But even as I dressed in different clothes and played a different role, an altered expression for the sake of my husband, I still felt my wolf's embrace.


	11. Decades

Essenza Del Lupo~

_Hello everyone! Here's your new update, hope you like. Give thanks to my beloved BETA= Labeano2002, she's a mega babe. xo_

_I don't own twilight.  
_

* * *

~June, 1933~

I was planning a wedding. Royce was slowly drinking himself to death, and I couldn't understand why. He was a lot more violent than usual. He would get unnecessarily boisterous and rough, but I resigned myself to his whim, knowing that fighting would result in me getting hurt. Although, lately, Father had been drinking as much as Royce, and my brothers wouldn't even look me in the eye, so I doubt they would notice a purple eye, or blue fingerprints on my arms.

He hadn't in fact, hit me. But I theorized it as inevitability. The distilled poison that he drank was slowly turning him into someone unbearable. Hopefully, I might convince him to wean himself off the whiskey for a while, to clear his head. Then, maybe he might be able to help Daddy get back on his feet, and aid me in planning the wedding he proposed to me.

Presently, I was getting help from Hazel, Royce's twenty-nine year old sister. She had decided to visit from Washington two weeks ago, then for an extended visit, after seeing the state of things. She left just two days ago, overwhelmed.

The sun set slowly outside the pane glass window, making the oak of my vanity glow, the grain of the wood, illuminated gold. I squinted through the glare reflecting off my mirror, too lazy to stand and draw the curtains. The fabric was faded anyway, the window sill covered with dust. It seemed now that everyone was preoccupied with my mother's death; Isabelle must have been shirking her duties. I couldn't find a spark within me to care. It's not as if it was that important; had Evelyn been here, she probably wouldn't have noticed either. And I wouldn't fire her if I had the energy. If I did, Father would want a reason why, and I couldn't exactly confess Royce's indiscretion, nor could I do it without any reason at all. I also felt slightly guilty, as much as it sickened me, but she was rather ill at the moment, and throwing her to the wolves of New York while she was under the weather was almost as cruel as sleeping with someone's fiancée. That might be why she wasn't cleaning...

I ran a comb through my hair and pinned my mother's sapphire brooch to the breast of my dress, running my finger over the web of diamonds around the edge.

I stared at the decoupage vase that held a bunch of wilted roses.

I felt like I was filling in the impossibly big shoes of my mother, and although she barely cooked or cleaned, it was her presence, her smile, and the scent of her perfume that was impossible to replace, what made me want to die with her.

I can see my world crumbling around me, and although I severely resent Royce for betraying me, and getting drunk all the time; he is a somewhat form of stability. He has been helpful, in what ways he can. But I have on several occasions asked him to give me some space and time on my own. And even as I request his absence, I don't feel safe when he's away—maybe 'safe' was the wrong word... I felt concern and nausea, pertaining to the possibility that if he didn't get attention from me, he might find it somewhere else and with someone else.

It was a Sunday evening, and as I descended the staircase, hair brushed and fluffed, dress neat and pressed, I heard a commotion in the dining area, my anxiety piqued.

"William, do not disrespect me," Henry ordered.

I shuffled into the middle of their confrontation, shifting off to the sidelines immediately as they hurled cruelty at one another; blood against blood, daggers to already broken hearts.

"Fuck off, you're not Dad, and if you were, I'd still hate you as much as I hate _him!"_ he screamed, his face pink and his ears red.

"William!" I hissed.

"Watch your mouth!" Henry fumed, affronted, and as I could depict, extremely hurt. "Go to your room, right now, before I—"

"What? Get Father? Why would you bother? He's just as drunk as Rosalie's fiancée right now. Why don't we just buy a coffin now, he'll be lying in one soon enough. We should dig out a spot _right_ next to Mother before he drops, too."

"Henry!" I cried, tears blotting my vision as I sucked in ragged breaths of despair.

My family was coming apart and disintegrating in the palms of my hands; an ancient parchment touched too many times, or a magnificent oil painting burned into ash that fell like water between my fingers.

"Oh, please, Rose!" he scoffed back, like he was tired with my reactions. "You know as well as we all do. Evelyn Hale is dead, she was the only thing that kept us together, and now all we have is _this. _I hate it. I hate both of you. I hate Dad, and I especially hate _Mom_."

After shouting his last words, he stormed out of the room. I thwarted Henry's quick motion to follow after him with a hand on his shoulder. Harassing him would do no good. It was solitude that he needed the most. More suffocation would do more damage.

I retired to the isolation of the kitchen. It seemed now that we all had our private havens within the house. Places we stayed, and which no one else would enter. I slumped over the granite counter, dry and unused for a while;the only food was still sitting on the stove, growing cold. Isabelle must have been down to cook and then gone back to her room. I blotted my tears with the sleeve of my dress. The kitchen was a horrible reminder of sins still-not-forgotten, but it was out of the way, and it also reminded me of the good, the hearty, and the cheerful.

"Will, we're going out!" Henry yelled up the stairs as I put my scarf on, wrapping it snugly around my neck and absently staring at the mirror on the wall with no reflection.

Father was at work, I was guessing. It was all I could do to guess these days. He barely addressed any of us when he was at home, which was obviously a very rare occurrence now. I couldn't bear to look at the pale old woman behind the youthful complexion covering my face.

I dropped my gloves on the table as Henry moved toward the hallway.

"I think I'll stay here, today, Henry. I'm not feeling all that well," I told him, a scratching nausea building inside my stomach.

"Are you alright?" he asked with a creased brow.

"Just go, I'll be fine. I'll call for a doctor's appointment and I'll stay in bed," I assured him.

He left then without too much protest and I walked to the front door to lock it in his wake. I was alone with my own devices, except for my secluded sibling upstairs. And of course, there was also Isabelle, who was in her servant's quarters in the far East end of the Hale estate.

I heard a thud on the roof above my head, something falling heavily to the floor upstairs. With a deepened frown and a foreboding churn inside me, I lithely climbed the staircase, hearing nothing on the first floor with my bedroom, and my parent's room which had since been abandoned.

A creaking resounded above. The noise was haunting me, and I couldn't get close enough to decipher it, to realize what it was. I followed what little instinct I had, my throat tightening as if something were tied around it. I felt frustratingly desperate as I searched for the source of the noise that it never occurred to me, that William may have made it. Without comprehending, I sauntered to his bedroom door, opening it without knocking.

My stomach dropped with disappointment at the silence before my heart faltered a beat at the limp body swinging from the iron ceiling light, a rope around his neck.

A scream, my breakfast came up my throat, burning, as I emptied it onto the carpet in the hall.

"Will!" I shrieked, eyes sore with tears for the dead.

There was a heavy wooden chair upturned by his feet, which he must have used, and most likely the sound I heard earlier.

So he thought he would do away with himself after we left home, giving us a parting surprise once we found him when we came back from the markets?

With strong, angry hands, I pulled the chair upright, running to the desk by his bed to retrieve anything sharp. Some fabric scissors, remnants of Evelyn's love for haberdashery.

"Who says you can leave us alone?" I choked bitterly, outraged.

I stood up on the chair, grabbing him around the waist with one arm and lifting him so the rope had some slack before I attacked it with the blades, the threads fraying before coming apart entirely. I stumbled to the floor with his weight, his body still warm, a life remained. I sat down and carefully manoeuvred his head into my lap, his neck purple and pink.

His face was wet with his own tears and I felt his breath brush my wrist as I caressed his face, a face that should be untouched with the torment of adulthood. He had to grow up too early, had seen death too soon.

"Why do you hate me?" I sobbed, kissing his hair.

He was still unconscious, but I felt his pulse against my palm pressed to his chest.

"Why?"

"Because you look like Mom," he whispered.

I gritted my teeth, and squeezed my arms tighter.

"Why do you hate _her_?"

"The same reason you do; because she left without saying good bye, without taking us with her."

~0~0~

~Present Day~

I raised my head from the body of the elk lying limp in my arms, and off sort of familiarity. I shook my head, the blood suddenly very unappealing; a nauseated twinge in my stomach again.

I let it fall to the forest floor, the thin stream of blood pulsing from the wound I made on its neck, a wicked red. Somehow, the sight looked repulsive. I took a step back, perplexed, before wiping my mouth with the back of my hand. I was done hunting for tonight, my body unable to gain much from these critters.

I sped up to fall into step beside Emmett, his eyes snapping to mine and a playful grin on his mouth before he flung himself ungracefully across my path, tackling a mountain lion that Edward had just lunged for. Like lions themselves, they fought over it before Edward grudgingly let his brother have it for the sake of mitigating any further territorial argument.

I smirked and he rolled his eyes, a small smile on his lips. I knew he was thinking about Bella, though. When was he not? It didn't take a telepath to know he was. But for me, it obviously did. My thoughts inexplicably travelling several miles away to La Push, where my werewolf slept, or bounded through the woods. I wish I could find him right now...

Emmett bowed his head over the dirty lump of fur, the smell barely recognizable to me anymore. Maybe I'd grown desensitized to it now, the animalistic stench. We were half way up the Olympic range, finding sustenance to keep us sated for the following week.

It was rare that Edward joined us, but he'd trusted Alice (mostly) to protect his mate while we were hunting. I strolled alongside Esme as she gazed up at the night sky, a fond, distant sort of expression on her face.

"Beautiful, isn't it?" she sighed.

I smiled, too, shaking my head in adoring amusement.

"Only you would find the simplistic, beautiful," I replied, although I suppose I agreed with her.

"On the contrary; the sky is extremely complex, the solar system abundant in stars that look so close, but are a trillion miles away. So close... yet so far. Maybe to the naked eye, they look like you could reach out and touch them, but delving into that space is going into the unknown, the deep... _That _is beautiful."

I looked down at her in surprise to find her smiling knowingly up at me. I smiled, disconcerted, as I watched her rejoin with Carlisle who had reappeared out of the more dense section of the woods. I closed my eyes, and rubbed my knuckles into them, a peculiar wave of lethargy rolling over me.

I should have eaten more tonight.

Jasper reconvened with us then, having eluded the rest of us for the most part of the trip, never one to socialize when we were foraging. He liked his isolation, with the exception of Alice, of course. He'd always want her around. The reason I knew that Emmett was not my mate, was that I didn't want him all the time.

A wish erupted within my mind, that of the ability to sleep, to have irrational dreams of what could be. The face that appeared was not that of my vampire lover. If I could not dream about him, how could he be my dream? I stumbled out of that convoluted train of logic when Edward's phone vibrated in his pocket, the sound clear to us all.

"Alice." His voice was immediately tense.

"Stay where you are. Lock her in the fucking bathroom, barricade the doors, I don't care, just don't let her out of your sight. Keep her safe for me Alice."

We shared looks of unease as he lowered the phone from his ear.

"Victoria is here?" Emmett asked.

"Not yet. She's coming. I can't stay here, I have to—" Edward was distraught.

I don't think he realized he'd crushed his cell phone in is palm until he dropped the crushed pieces to the ground, agitated.

"Edward. Just go. We'll span out around her house," I told him. My words were construed as orders to the others which they gladly accepted, already trailing Edward.

I ran next to Emmett, flaring off his track before branching off completely and arcing around Esme and Carlisle. Edward was already way ahead.

Preparing for another newborn attack, I sharpened my senses, concentrating on the 'out-of-place'. I filtered through the common sounds of the forest, the creatures, the brush of ferns against bark...

The sound of light yet untrained footsteps were audible, but only fractionally. I sprinted towards the sound, circling Bella's house before making it an extra mile when I finally spotted one...

...or two.

A snarl ripped out of my throat as I lunged at the first one, a young female closest to me, she couldn't have been older than twenty-five. A waste. Truly, a waste.

The other, although brand new, was extremely accurate and focused. He was around my age, the name 'Cameron!' tore from the female vampire's lips before I crushed her head between my hands, her torso crumbling under my right heeled boot.

They could have known each other before being transformed, or even possibly made the irreversible connection already. She spoke his name as her last word, a passionate cry of despair. They were definitely mates. Otherwise, he would have kept running.

He swiped at my head, my knees bending into a crouch, my body coiling and ducking out of the way before he could touch me. On my way back around, he caught me by the throat, a gasp resounding from my lungs, as if it was instinctive.

And at that point, I knew he'd come. Heavy paws raked across his back, and a scream of shock and incredulity thickened the air. His hand tightened, and I couldn't get it loose as I slumped to the ground with him before he spun around, wrapping his arms around wolf-Jacob's shoulders.

"No!" I heard a crack and a howl of agony.

The agony shot straight through me like an iron rod. I felt his pain.

"Jacob!" I shrieked as he stumbled backwards in the Vampire's grip.

A fierce bark, and he was clamping his huge jaw around Cameron's neck, a quick jerk of the head, and it was completely detached.

I was still on the ground as he approached, his shoulders and his right side bloodied with macabre death paint.

His body rippled and shrunk back to human size, his naked form dwarfing mine still as he crawled over me on his hands and knees, either hand on the ground beside my hips. He was filthy, but far more appealing than any furry dead elk.

His lips touched mine, and I was bathing in him, in his scent, in his presence and in his sexual appetite. I moaned softly as he pressed me into the grass and bracken, his hand curling around the base of my neck, his other hand pulling impatiently at the waist of my jeans. I clawed at the nape of his neck, tugging at his short, silky, asp black hair. He growled, pulling the denim down my thighs and bunching it around my ankles before I felt him fill me with one painfully erotic thrust. It was desperate, magnificent need; too long spent without each other communicated into a fiery fuck.

"Ja-Jacob—_Jacob!"_ I sobbed into his muscled shoulder as his lips brushed my jaw.

He pushed into me again, harder, fast and more desperate.

"Rose," he panted.

"Harder, please, please," I begged, fingernails digging into hot flesh, hips rubbing against hips.

His penis hardened and warm inside my moist center, a slick, wet noise resounding between us as he bucked, my hips meeting his in needy response.

I had dirt and sticks in my hair; I was smeared with Fork's soil, and our own essence.

"I needed you again. I couldn't wait." He grunted and I felt my abdomen wind up into a hot, sensual coil, my orgasm flooding through me in tangible waves of electricity.

He emptied himself inside me, his breaths coming fast and then slowing again, his body tight under my hands, yielding sex, and sweat.

He rolled back onto the balls of his feet; gently pulling my pants back up my legs and buttoning them. He pressed a kiss to my pubic bone, my belly button and then my lips.

I was covered with his scent, with my own moisture, and it was wonderful.

I ran my hand down his thigh, squeezing his backside tightly before he put some space between us so he could phase.

His eyes never left mine, and that was probably what distracted us from our company.

A distinctly feline chuckle, my head turned to see Victoria staring between us both, smirking.

Jacob ran forward and Victoria rushed him, smashing her fist into his ribcage and sending him sprawling across the ground. I felt his pain again... amplified.

I screamed in anger before, crouching into a defence position, needing to get closer, needing to protect him when he was vulnerable.

"Fucking a werewolf?" she laughed manically. "How despicable." Her eyes narrowed then, into slits of divine evil.

"Rose!" Emmett shouted, wheeling up to my side with an outraged snarl.

He didn't wait before attacking her. Fear gripped at my sides as I stumbled with what felt like exhaustion. We all heard another approach of practiced, silent feet; Jasper.

Her head whipped toward the sound before she fled, a cackle wafting on the wind in her wake, a melody of insanity.

Jacob was picking himself up, his healing accelerated, and already effective. I lifted myself up off the ground, still staring at Jacob, and the disappearing wound around his middle, his fur still matted with blood. As I stood, I felt something hot and sticky against my own mid-section, my hand absently rubbing against it as I shuffled closer to Jasper and Emmett, gathering the body parts to burn.

Emmett's head whipped around, as if sensing something in the air, a scent—another newborn approaching?

"Rosalie." His deep voice bellowed in disbelief. "_Blood."_

I followed his line of sight—Jacob was approaching us, his silhouette in the corner of my eye—down to the bloody stain seeping through the cotton of my t-shirt. I pulled my jacket off, carefully, gingerly lifting the red-soaked fabric from my stomach, a sharp pain piercing between my ribs as if I'd been bitten.

_As if I'd been bitten..._

"What..." I whispered, staring at the steady stream of blood dripping from a very real wound on my side.

Jasper's eyes were wide, his mouth open. Emmett was speechless, a weary blank fear in his eyes before I finally glanced at Jacob, and mouthed, "...I'm...dying..."

A few decades too late.


	12. Ill

I promise the next update will be sooner, hopefully. This one is late enough as it is. I promised someone it would be two days away, that was, like, a week ago. SORRY!

Working on next chapter as I speak, thanks for waiting!

~Essenza Del Lupo~

* * *

~0~August, 1933~0~

There was a foreboding scent to the air tonight. I could feel the atmosphere as if it were a lead weight drawing into my lungs with each breath. I had nerves, fraying with sensitive edges, at the thought of tomorrow morning.

My wedding day.

It was a vision of webs of ancient white lace, crisp, clean table cloths canvassing the expanse of our estate. The garden was primed, the lasting warmth of Summer nipping at the heels of the blooming flowers, their petals only lasting a few more weeks before they will wilt and fade brown.

I imagined a marching band walking with me down that isle, a salute to the beating percussion of my heart. But as I pictured the pure white garlands, the rows of small wooden chairs facing the flowered archway between my two favourite oak trees, and the man that would stand under the lattice in his finest suit, I felt a keen shudder of discomfort.

I ignored it.

I cloaked my intuition with the surmise that it was just pre-wedding jitters, cold feet, anxiety over my commitment, and our future. It was simply that which any girl would go through, not a symptom to be obsessed over.

However, most girls still had their mother for guidance on how to feel and what to do. They didn't have to miss the warm caress of a maternal voice in their ears, a fluttering feminine leader with more power than widely believed in the average household.

My hand hovered adoringly over Evelyn's wedding gown, the frills, lace and silk so delicate that I didn't want to touch it until absolutely necessary.

Royce was still staying with us in the house, but he would reside on the opposite side of the estate so I could remain hidden from his gaze for the entire twenty four hours prior to our nuptials.

I unclipped the jade earrings from my ear lobes, placing them carefully inside my jewellery box, a sweet little tune humming from the wind-up ballerina in it's centre. I closed my eyes brushing my hair slowly as I stood at the side of my bed, unable to contemplate going to sleep right away. I chewed on my lip as I wandered up to William's bedroom.

Out of habit, I'd grown used to keeping a surveillance on my little brother, fearing he may try to leave us all again. A true departure that would be the last straw of devastation in our family, the final tie severed.

I gently turned the doorknob, pushing on the door to peek inside the darkness. I saw him lying awkwardly over his bed, and I shuffled in, heaving his body into a more comfortable position. The light from the hall covered half of his face, making it half golden, half grey. I watched his eyebrows twitch as he stirred, groaning before burying his face into the plush goose-down pillow under his cheek. I shook my head fondly before silently retreating out the door again, glancing at four indentations in the carpet where a heavy wooden chair once stood but had since been placed back downstairs in the kitchen.

I sauntered languidly through the hallway, stopping to drag my fingers along the walls, to touch each door I passed with a tender motion.

As if I was, for some reason, bidding farewell to the memories the house embodied, saying a final goodbye to the life I lived within these rich walls.

I made my way back down stairs, following the winding, aimless halls of the estate to find Isabelle. She was hunched over the kitchen sink; her skin a washy grey, shining with sweat.

I frowned, concerned, as I approached her frail posture.

Just as I reached out to put a hand on her shoulder, she heaved her stomach, a sickening gurgle resounding from her throat as she emptied the contents of her stomach. I caught her weak form before she collapsed into a heap on the floor at my feet.

I was almost resentful for her sudden illness. However, for some reason, it felt like she'd been suffering for a while now.

And the would-be resentment, I was realising, was actually relief. Some form of relief for the woman who was putting my wedding off of my mind.

I made an emergency call to our family doctor; knowing he was a very trustworthy, practiced gentleman. I gathered Isabelle up into my arms, stressfully trying to heave her up into a standing position, or to find the strength to drag her to the living room so I could lie her down comfortably.

She seemed to cool off then, gradually losing the pale, ill-looking waxiness to her complexion until a colour finally rose to her cheeks.

"Are you alright, Isabelle?" I whispered, concerned with her erratic fever.

Unable to prevent myself from doing so, I imagined holding Evelyn in my arms; beauty fading in a wash of unpredictable sickness, a common ailment, easily conquered, but also easily fatal.

I couldn't watch another lose their battle, despite her actions, Isabella was still gifted my affections and sisterly adoration. She was, ultimately, one of the family. To stand by idly, while I let another member of this catastrophic family go; would make Evelyn Hale ashamed to have been the matriarch of such a pitiful cluster of relatives.

I dampened a hand towel out of the kitchen and laid it on her forehead, her breathing slow and steady, her eyes closed and muscles lax enough that she barely looked stricken at all.

Arriving only twenty minutes afterward, the good doctor himself appeared at the landing. William and Henry had roused from sleep, hearing my anxious wails from their bedrooms.

We were gathered around our restless maid, her usually iridescently bronzed skin was slightly closer to the shade of my paleness. Her eyes moved under her lids. Searching inside the dreams; a space so deep and expansive that you could be looking forever.

I felt bad for waking her, but Dr. Walker was already kneeling by her make-shift hospital cot (our sofa). I glanced to her, swore I could have seen flickers of golden blonde hair curled down over her chest just like my mother's. Looking away quickly, I let Dr. Walker proceed instead.

~0~

I was pacing about the dining room, my arms folded and my eyes heavily weighted with exhaustion as I waited for Dr. Walker to finish up with Isabelle.

"Miss Hale?" he called from behind me, causing me to swiftly turn on my heel and stare at him.

"I'm no sure how delicately to put this; but is Isabelle a married woman?" he queried curiously, a glimmer of sheepishness in his eye.

I hadn't thought Dr. Walker to be so unabashed about courtships, in addition to the fact that I thought he was already married. When I just frowned and didn't speak, he grimaced.

"It appears that your maid is expecting a baby. She told me she was late with her menstrual cycle; and the illness she is feeling, it keeps coming unexpectedly, then going away as if it never happened. A common symptom in early pregnancy, of course: morning sickness."

I swallowed, although the foreboding ugliness of the night had already devoured me whole.

* * *

~0~Present Day~0~

The pain was...unimaginable. The intensity was enough to blur my vision, to cast ghostly colourful images before my eyes—hallucinations? But the best part? Unconsciousness. It was unbearable to even contemplate going back to reality when I was so content to lie here in a pit of darkness within my own mind; a mind that was trying to protect itself from exactly that.

There was a feeling of relaxation that settled over me like a hazy film, softening my breaths as I slipped under the cloak of sleep. My brain still had the peculiar ability to comprehend many different things at once, but could do nothing to rouse the rest of my body into a state of wake.

I was drowning in a pleasant silent ocean, one that left me wading out into the deepest of waters, floating above a canyon or underwater crevasse, waiting to be pulled further down. The water was murky, cloudy with stilted memories and recollections of prior.

However, they'd all been muffled with a thick cottony barrier, their voices barely audible to me. I waited in the dark, waited for a light, but was surprised when I found myself with no desire to find one. No inclination to return, until a voice grew sharper and more accurate.

That voice sent me hurtling back into the ageless body I'd spent decades living an unending life inside of.

"What the hell is happening to her?" he barked, a fierce, helpless growl.

I felt my mind expand back to full capacity, my limbs no longer aching with injuries impossible to exist, my body now able to cope with the blood loss. Blood which also shouldn't exist inside me.

Instinct caused my muscles to coil, as if I was just waking from my transformation, and I was incapable of controlling the speed in which I moved. I had been lying down; and as I opened my eyes, sprung up onto my feet, the noise in the room diminished.

I stared at them all facing me with rapt attention, a distinguishable air of tension and suspense around me. I felt myself begin to relax and slow down.

They were all here, even Bella. Even...Jacob.

I looked down at myself, still covered in the blood that I bled, yet couldn't possibly be my own.

It was still matted grotesquely to my shirt, dirt and bracken glued to the sticky substance. I suddenly felt a hand on my shoulder, and without thinking, I snarled in warning.

Emmett, hurt and affronted, dropped his hand. He just stared at me, as if he wasn't able to tell who I was anymore. I found that concept difficult to gauge myself, sometimes. Especially now.

I swallowed, feeling no relief from the aching lump of torment in my throat.

"What's happening to me?" I whispered, beseeching one of my family to tell me why my life and my body was falling apart.

"Maybe _you_ could tell us." Emmett muttered from my left.

When I turned my head in confusion to his words, I realised his eyes were settled not on me, but on the bare chested wolf specimen on the opposite corner of the room. A blazing, cataclysmic rivalry burned in his eyes, and became an almost palpable presence in the room. Which may explain why everyone looked so bewildered by their tense exchange.

"What have I got to do with it?" he narrowed his eyes at my husband, muscles taught and strained as he unconsciously leaned forward.

"How about you start with why the hell my wife is _covered_ with your stench!" He boomed, his indignation and fury an uncontainable force.

If it were the wind, our house would be a pile of torn rubble and splintered wood. A cacophony to Jacob's mortal fire and warmth.

"Em," I interrupted, but my voice was drowned by Jacob's snarls as Emmett pushed me out of his path to get to Jacob.

"Don't touch her!" he roared, unmistakeably shuddering with rage, his body on the brink of phasing.

Both men were closing the distance between each other, their bodies rippling with outraged suspense.

"Stop!" I cried as they launched in the same direction.

I flung myself between them, only to get Jake's paw raked down my back. Emmett's reflexes were obviously quicker, and he stopped himself before colliding with me.

I hissed as I felt the raw stinging down my spine; the pain frighteningly acute.

Jake reared back, reeling at what he'd done while Emmett growled louder in anger.

"Both of you!" I yelled, breathing hard.

I could almost feel my once-granite-like skin close up and heal around the jagged claw marks. Emmett was close to shoving me out of the way again when Jake phased back, crouching low on the floor.

"You wanna know why my scent is all over her?" he sneered vindictively.

I shook my head minutely at him, begging him for more time.

"She's mine." He grumbled lowly, warning clear in his tone.

Emmett looked darkly amused, as if the idea was ludicrous. It was ludicrous, but that didn't make it impossible.

His amusement hastily transformed into repulsion.

"She doesn't belong to _you_," he spat.

As his head moved, the early morning sun rising glistened onto his marble skin. Each movement shimmered like a shattered crystal.

"Stop it right now!" I ordered loudly until Jake's words cut across my own.

"Ask her yourself."

I stared at him in betrayal, only a small sliver of understanding present as to why he would place the pressure on me. I understood why; I needed to choose. But I wasn't ready.

"Jacob—" I croaked, caught off guard.

"Ask her why she can't look you in the eye." He continued, his eyes burning into mine as I felt Emmett's body tense behind me.

"Rose?" he pressed.

I finally turned to him. His eyes were hurt and lost, begging me not to admit what was true. But challenging me to try to lie to him again. He knew I couldn't.

So he waited.

"I'm his." I whispered.


	13. To Be Untouchable

Essenza Del Lupo~

What is this? A new update after only a few days? Is birobird on crack? Yes, yes she is (no, i'm not). I thought I owed you guys a double update, ya know, cause you're awesome. I should probably get back to spanking Teacherward, and update IA, or perhaps Hippyward first. Not sure. Shall update soon, my loves.

* * *

_Maybe I love you, maybe I just like the sound_

_But if you disappear, you'll still hear when my heart hits the ground_

_Every touch of every scene, it is beautifully broken as a bird without wings_

_All we have holdin' us back, holdin' us back._

_All we have holdin' us back, for all we have...what's holding us back?_

_We'll never know what it's like to be free,_

_There's no explanation for what we cannot change_

_So we'll leave how we met, with nothing the same._

_Holding us Back-Katie Herzig_

* * *

"Em, wait!" I cried in despaire.

"Em, please, I know you're hurting, just let me—_"_

"_Explain?"_ he provided, wheeling around.

His footfalls were so heavy, his shoes were tearing up the lawn in huge chunks as he stormed out into the yard.

"How about instead of explaining how the hell you could go off and fuck a _wolf,_" he roared, spitting the word at me like it was poison on his tongue, "you explain how you could go and fuck someone else, _period_!"

"I don't know! There's no way to explain without making it sound pitiful. I betrayed you, and I'm sorry. I can't begin to tell you how much I hate myself—but it's not going to make a difference," I whimpered, my voice faltering as I watched his heart fracture through the window of his eyes.

He stopped for a moment, sadness overtaking his anger. Taking a small step forward, his hand reached for my shaking ones.

He lifted my chin up, his jaw clenched tight as he attempted to get me to look at him. His eyebrows pulled together in agony and fear.

"You're crying," he choked.

My fingers brushed across my cheeks, disbelieving his words until I felt the warm moisture on my fingertips. Bringing it to my line of sight for inspection, I saw the beads of salty tears on my skin.

"Impossible!" I whimpered dreadfully, although, still at war with my fear; I also felt wonder and hope.

Maybe I could begin a normal, mortal life without the impossibility of a natural death. If that was what was happening to me... or perhaps I'd grown weaker for some reason. Although I wouldn't have to look far to figure out what factors in my life had changed recently and had potentially become the cause of my deterioration.

Jacob had happened.

And I couldn't possibly think of anything else that may have been behind what was happening to me.

But there was still the mystery as to how Jacob would cause my body to become so much weaker, I could almost pass for a real human being; with bodily reactions, the ones that were foreign to the immortal, my family: vampires.

"Rosalie," Jacob called my name, in reverence, in devotion; his eyes softening, then widening as he registered the moisture on my cheeks.

He bounded out of the back door, and I could almost feel another confrontation coming to the fore. Like the feel of a tepid breeze gusting around the trees before the dark, cold storm cloud approached in thundering electric debris.

Acting as a buffer, a force field between hot and cold; the husband and the lover, stood my eternally wretched soul, becoming too entwined with both men that I deserved neither.

We stood in an act and situation so old and so over contemplated; the jealous husband and original love, next to the burning pyre of a new lover. New, but with a bond so deep and intense almost as if it had been burnt on ancient scripture as a prophecy, not as a fickle affair; but a connection so passionate and so volatile that it could pull the moon and brighten the stars… or destroy everything in a silent apocalypse.

I drew a breath in preparation but they just stood there, in their respective stances, staring at one another in a conversation through the words of their looks.

And it seemed they'd both seen enough.

Because neither one of them was evil, and neither pathetic. It was I who was evil, the selfish middle ground, the modern day harlot with half a heart in each hand, both from different, innocent souls. Emmett looked at me as I held my hands out to stop them from advancing on each other.

I would have felt relief had he glared at me, had he shown me more anger and fury. But I deserved what I got; like the torture it was, he closed his eyes and turned around without a word, his body blurring as he ran away.

~0~0~

"Jake, don't touch me, I just—I need some time alone, please!" I screeched, thinking I may as well destroy us all, while I was at it.

He gripped my arm firmly as I struggled.

When you break something, you feel fear, anger or frustration. It's almost so strong that you want to obliterate everything else. I was fighting Jacob; I was smashing the rest of the aged crystal in my life after breaking the tiny, but priceless antique ornament that was my marriage.

I darted through the house as I broke free and ran out into the garage where he undoubtedly followed with enough haste to catch up.

He made a grab for me again, and I screamed.

He backed off, taken aback by my outburst. I yelled, digging my fingers into the back of my neck and preaching to my fragmented sanity.

And as if I hadn't made it clear that I was upset, Jake made another reach for my arm. I pushed him back and he hit the wall of shelves housing every tool and outdoor appliance we owned. The doors splintered with his weight and the force with which I threw him. I went to run but he caught me when I just wanted to scream again.

"I want to die!" I wailed. "I don't want to live this life anymore!"

Distraught, I slammed him back. He wobbled slightly but held me from behind by both arms, preventing my escape. I spun around, shoving him in the chest as he stayed silent; the worst reaction ever.

"Fight me back! Make me feel how angry you are! How disgusted you are in me!" I screamed, shoving at him.

He was backed all the way to the garage door, any further and he'd make a dent in the metal.

I pushed once more and he fought back, trying to hold me still until I was about to punch him and he slammed me backwards into Edward's car.

The glass of the two right side windows, back and front, both buckled with the force and shattered with peculiar popping noises. Shocked, I wasn't able to move as he pushed his body against mine.

He was hot, and his blood was pulsing vigorously through his body. I still had the ability to feel it, and sense it.

Instead of hitting me like I begged him to, he kissed me. It was forceful, heated and cruel.

It felt like he was punishing me with intimacy.

I couldn't prevent this, and I couldn't fight him now. He was telling me to give up, to let this torment go.

He brought my hand up to his lips and kissed my finger tips, nurturing my tear stroked skin. He pressed his lips to mine again, and they parted immediately. I breathed him in, his tongue running along my bottom lip as I opened my mouth.

He pressed me into the car harder, and I could almost feel the sheer metal bending to the shape of our bodies.

Destruction.

~0~August, 1933~0~

"Isabelle. Is. Pregnant." I ground out, in short, staccato growls.

My fiancée was pacing in front of his desk as I sat on the leather sofa facing the fireplace in his personal study. He was still in his night clothes, now wearing a navy blue robe, a cigarette held between his thumb and forefinger. He'd never been partial to smoking a pipe.

That was something my father would do.

Apparently, they'd both told me it helped relieve stress with work. I could have easily guessed why he chose to smoke something right now.

I was still in my night gown, too, feeling a nauseating clench in my stomach every time he would raise his piercing oily eyes to mine.

I rested my arm on the back of the couch and watched him stomp across the floor, pausing once to pick up a crystal jug of whiskey from his desk and pour a full glass.

He plucked it from his hard wood desk by the rim, swirling it around as if it weren't properly mixed before taking a large gulp. He grimaced at the strength and taste.

I always assumed it must taste really good with how often he drank it, but then again, he always looked rather repulsed once he swallowed a mouthful.

I deduced it was purely for effect, and not for the palette.

I stared at an ornate angel sculpture to the right side of Royce's desk. The face was so frighteningly beautiful, and yet strained at the same time. How similar we were.

Burdened so harshly to the point where looks gave no advantage.

Not the most luscious hair, nor the plumpest lips could save one from being dragged to hell by the sinking claws of misfortune.

"Say something," I spat angrily, tired of finding patience for the man who had lain with the house keep, broken my heart, my trust, and everything else I had left.

Royce sucked in a breath and stared at his glass for a moment longer, downing the rest of the rich liquid before dropping it on the floor. He didn't even flinch when the glass smashed, beads of fractured crystal rolling over the wooden floors and onto the rug. I put my face in my hand, rubbing at my forehead in discomfort and anxiety as he approached me.

He then began to pace in front of the fire place.

"What do you want me to say?" he shrugged.

"I want an apology!" I demanded. "Isabelle! She's our responsibility now. You've created a child out of wedlock, and even if that weren't a sin, you betrayed me!" I screeched, utterly furious.

"She could just as easily lose it as she gained it," he muttered darkly.

My mouth dropped open.

"How could you wish such things?" I cried, outraged and terrified with his train of thought.

"This child is real now, and we cannot turn away. The doctor says she is over four months into her pregnancy..." I trailed off, the sharp sting of jealousy lashing against my tongue.

I couldn't deny my hatred for Isabelle now, despite her vulnerability as a young, impressionable woman from a different country. But I knew she understood what she was involved in.

And I know she enjoyed it. I saw it in her eyes when I caught them; there was a split second of pure ecstasy on her face as her body arched and was devoured by pleasure, right before it was replaced with mortification and humiliation once I walked in.

They both enjoyed it; charlatans as they were, living in lies.

"Why did you go to her, Royce?" I pleaded for an answer to the question I'd been carrying around for months.

"Why her, and not me? Why not marry me sooner, so you wouldn't have had to use _her_?" I begged, my hands clenching together under my chin as he stopped in front of me, his body a silhouette against the golden backdrop of the fire place.

"Why do you _think_?" he hissed, looking down upon me.

He leaned his arms on either side of my head against the sofa, caging me into his excruciating gaze.

"You're _Jonathon Hale's_ daughter." He stressed, as if that were an adequate explanation.

"You're a sheltered little brat; there are simpler ways of getting what I want without unnecessarily rushing this wedding," he continued.

"You wanted her more than me," I said lowly, my voice faltered, souring with resent and sadness.

"I didn't say that," he murmured, leaning closer he breathed in my face, a strong wave of liquor burning my nose.

And then his mouth was on mine.

I kissed him back, paying close attention to his hands. They were clammy and wandering down to the opening of my robe. I tried to focus on the fact that he was finally showing affection towards me, instead of avoiding me, or being too aloof to bear.

I let my hands rest on the tops of his shoulders as he gripped the nape of my neck, before he shoved his tongue into my mouth. I reared up slightly, uncomfortable with how fast he was moving.

But he was oblivious, or he didn't seem to care. I pushed at his chest as he buried his face in my neck, licking the skin over my collar bone. I was drowning in the whiskey vapors that were being exuded from his pores; the violence in his eyes, and the dispassionate way in which his fingers tangled in my hair. Not a gentle passion, or even an intimacy.

It felt more like dominance. Cruel, angry, and dangerous dominance.

His body was wiry and taught, his loud breathing creating a soft haunting in my ears, as the fire crackled timidly in the background. I knew he'd be angry after I refused him again, but he wasn't in the right frame of mind.

"Royce," I ducked out from under his arm, moving to the side of the sofa as he quickly stood up.

"Rose, come here," He demanded, pointing to a spot on the ground.

Domineering, insistent... angry.

"You're not yourself, come on, I'm not saying no, Royce." I clarified, my diamond ring glittering malignantly on my hand as I extended it toward him, the flames reflected in the facets.

"Rose. Damn it!" he snapped, trudging forward to grab my hair he forced his mouth back onto mine.

As I turned my head away, he pulled my robes open, tearing a button off of the top of my night gown at the same time.

I pulled back my hand and slapped him, but the action only seemed to encourage him. He backed me up until my thighs hit his desk, the hard wood sliding beneath me as he pushed me up onto the surface.

Without any indication, he pushed my gown up my legs, greedily running his hands over my skin with wide eyes and parted lips. I didn't want this as our first time. I didn't want to fake our consummation after we were officially wed. I wanted that to be real. I wanted to wear white on my wedding day and not feel like a pretender to the purity it signified to our Lord.

I would be a liar. And with the way Royce was acting, I couldn't comprehend this experience being in any way pleasurable and loving.

My body may have craved this situation once, but right now, my muscles were not tensed for intimacy, but in mere fear.

His hair fell into his eyes, still greasy with _Brylcreem_, and repulsive to touch.

"No! No, no, stop!" I whimpered as he opened the top of my gown with ragged breaths, and a criminally determined stare.

"Royce!" I cried as his fingers dug into my skin, burning holes of corruption into innocent flesh.

"This is why!" He yelled, taking a furious step back, stumbling.

My hands were flat against the cold wood, my chest heaving with shuddering breath.

"This is why I wouldn't come to you!" he turned his back on me, shaking his head before muttering something under his breath.

He stalked to the door then, opening it and slamming it closed behind him. I was left alone in the study that night, staring glassy-eyed at the Italian angel statue in the corner. It was one of Royce's family heirlooms; the marble flesh impossible to break.

_Wouldn't it be wonderful to be untouchable… _I thought… _then nobody could hurt me._


	14. No more

Hey guys! I'm super keyed up right now. Expect another Essenza Update soon. Sorry about the lag in my other fics. Hopefully I'll get back onto Prude and Prejudice, as well as IA:2. Much love, you guys! THANK YOU TO MY BETA:** labeano2002**, without her this could not be possible :D

And also to my awesome reviewers. I shall reply to each and every one of you!

~Essenza Del Lupo~

* * *

Seems that I have been held, in some dreaming state

A tourist in the waking world, never quite awake

No kiss, no gentle word could wake me from this slumber

Until I realise it was you who held me under

Felt it in my fists, in my feet, in the hollows of my eyelids

Shaking through my skull, through my spine, and down throough my ribs

No more dreaming of the dead, as if death itself was undone

No more calling like a crow, for a boy, for a body in the garden

No more dreaming like a girl, so in love, so in love

No more dreaming like a girl, so in love, so in love

No more dreaming like a girl so in love with the wrong world.

Blinding-Florence and The Machine

* * *

~ 1933~

Daddy's stockholders were growing anxious with the continual struggle of money. The market crash hadn't necessarily affected us too much, it was merely the warnings and suffering of others that kept our investors skittish and on the verge of selling their shares in his bank. At the moment, he was a busy man... busy, but hollow.

When I used to look in his eyes, before Evelyn died, I'd see dreams, shine, and a crescent moon. Now, when I actually had the chance to glance in his direction, there was the conspicuous absence of good. No stars to glimmer through his gaze anymore; they had only shined for Evelyn.

He had stopped drinking; I wished Royce would copy his example. I wasn't afraid for his health now, simply his sanity. He simply worked. He simply _was._

How could I tell my father I was in utter turmoil when he was as barely alive as my mother?

What right did I have to further blacken the soiled cloud over his heart? It would be selfish and weak; I could carry this burden on my own, carry it like a heavy musket or hatchet: a dangerous secret.

Isabelle would have to be taken away; I would have to tell father we sent her back to Italy to throw suspicion off of where we will actually take her, to an isolated penthouse in the heart of New York City.

The wedding had been postponed due to financial crisis; Daddy was contributing some of his own money from our savings into the bank, to keep it from collapsing. It may have been a blessing in disguise.

I continually felt the slackened grip of happiness on my back, a constant struggle to turn around and look at, to feel; especially when it hid itself from me. I was beginning to think my angel didn't exist, or that this entity of happiness had no place on the Hale estate anymore.

Perhaps it was this house that provided a boundary, a gravelly pit of unease whereby no love and kindness could prosper anymore. Not when the flickering flame had been snuffed out. Evelyn was the warm ember.

The rest of us were chalky ashes, dissolute tunes, and recumbent, brittle memories in a faux library.

What mercy would we receive like this?

~0~0~

Present Day

"Can you fall asleep?" Jake asked, running his fingertips down my arm.

I refused to lay on my bed with Jacob; as much as I desired his intimacy in a comfortable environment, I'd become the worst person in the world if I went as far as having sex with him in the bed I used to make love to Emmett in.

It would be cruel, and selfish.

I was already enough of the two without adding more on top of it.

I breathed out lightly, my body still unfulfilled with the oxygen it absorbed into my lungs. I suppose, I wasn't technically alive, not without the ability to breathe, or a constantly beating heart. It only beat in short bursts.

I looked up at him as we lay on the bracken under the canopy of stars. We were in the clearing, a deserted circle of space, a pillar of singularity.

I felt as if I could pretend nothing went wrong here, nothing had gone wrong, or will go wrong. Jake and I were together here, alone, as the eternal. When I closed my eyes, I imagined our bodies laying here day and night, never moving for the wind, until the roots from the dirt encased our bodies; we become a part of the network of nature, humanity's souls, lovers entwined.

It looked as beautiful as a blossoming sunrise.

"I think... that I almost could..." My mouth opened of it's own volition, a sigh of air escaping.

I yawned.

"Vampires aren't supposed to yawn," Jake commented lightly.

I shook my head.

"They aren't supposed to cry either... or bleed. They also have life mates and now that's shot to shit, isn't it?" I added abrasively.

I could almost hear Jacob's teeth grind in agitation.

"That's not your fault, and you know it. You're just going to keep on blaming yourself 'cause you're too afraid to admit that it's out of your hands." His arm tightened around my shoulders.

I flattened my palm over the expanse of his chest, feeling like a small vulnerable human, clinging to a giant tree root.

His heart thumped under my hand.

"How do you know me so well?" I mumbled in faux irritation.

"I'm observant."

"Now, that's a lie," I chuckled, rolling onto my side to look down at him.

I leaned my chin on his chest as his hand smoothed down my back, an electrical therapy, sending sparks through my skin, raising goose bumps on my flesh. I was almost purring at the sensation, his other hand reaching up to cradle my face. He brought it down upon his, grasping both of my hips and effortlessly positioning me over his lap so I was straddling him.

Fully clothed, I began rubbing against him slightly, letting his tongue invade my mouth, slipping against mine. My moan resonated between us, lifting us, freeing us.

There was a dark serenity around us, an inky tangle of poisonous vines, tying us together as we tore our clothes apart.

Jake lifted me off him as I helped undo his pants; pants that Jasper had leant to him after he'd phased in my bedroom. I could almost breathe in the heady suspense of tonight. Like I was preparing for a battle, my body coiled and stretched against his, an elegant sensuality.

My clothes, changed from my bloody battle wear, were torn as Jake heaved them off. My cotton blouse fluttered to the ground like a weightless angel's feather. I almost smiled, as I thought how Esme would think the exact same thing. Odd, that she found divinity in something so ordinary.

Divinity in the mundane.

I felt the heat of his skin between my thighs as I sat back down on his lower stomach, panty-less. His large hands ran tingling streams up my legs, rubbing up and down. I reached between us, feeling my moisture coat my finger tips as I selfishly rubbed myself, aching for some friction.

Our eye contact seared, Jake's irises darkening as he stared at me, watching me do this to myself. He didn't stop, he merely squeezed my ass, moving me against him slightly, his hardened cock grazing my cheeks.

I bit my lip, losing sight of reality as the splintering ecstasy took over. His hands replaced mine and I leaned back, my entrance exposed. He slipped his fingers inside me with a guttural growl, an audible mark of possession.

I twisted in his grasp as he pushed his thumb on my clit, alternating pressure as I quivered. I moaned, lifting my hips slightly in offering. He groaned and I sat up straight, my moisture smeared across his muscled stomach. I turned my body, leaning down over his cock and taking it in my mouth. I hissed as he kept playing with my sensitive core, still unsatisfied.

After a moment of teasing, he relented, losing control and gripping my thighs before positioning my cunt over his face.

I panted, slightly hysterical as a new rush of pleasure shivered up my spine, into the pit of my stomach. My thighs closed around his head before I refocused on his beautiful length, my mouth covering his entire head and sucking gently.

He hummed against me, the vibration of his lips making me come almost instantly. Which only made me go faster on him. I took him deeper, a curse ripping through his throat. I licked and sucked, curling my hand around the base before I ran my tongue up the entire length, circling around the head as I simultaneously grasped his balls.

He twitched and tensed, burying his face back between my thighs. I grazed my teeth against him and he swore again, a colorful plethora of profanities.

He rolled us over, and his lips met mine once more before he lifted my left leg so I was basically lying on my side. He scissored my legs, fitting himself perfectly between mine before pushing his length inside me, a gasp and moan escaping me.

"Rosalie," he moaned.

The glow of him radiated out, impossibly brilliant against the darkened world.

There was movement against the backdrop of shadows.

~0~December, 1933~0~

The sun glared through my windows, making my eyes ache under the lids, turning them red. I scrunched my eyes closed, crinkling my nose. Mornings were a contemptuous necessity to life. I used to enjoy waking up to birdsong, the aroma of breakfast cooking. But this time of day felt as empty and bland as the rest of the hours that filled my life.

A disjointed poem of torment, raking over my heart like iron claws.

If I could paint my life, I imagined an ugly grey palette of color, smeared over wet paper to reflect the grim definite future, and possibly a splash of macabre red, to reflect the fiery volatility.

I watched the clock sitting on the nightstand with dismal indifference; it was past two-thirty in the afternoon. I should have been out of bed and decent. The inclination was dull, and those who would have cared whether I acted savory were literally dead, or emotionally dead.

Although it was my understanding that someone would notice if I didn't rouse at all. So, decidedly, I got dressed and combed my hair, washing my face, and applying some powder and rouge.

I pinned my brooch on, and sculpted my hair up delicately, finding a fine sanctity in the routine. It made it seem as if no time had passed.

But then again, it had, and I felt the heaviness of my depression weigh down on me, as if it thickened my blood and pricked at my heart.

I sluggishly made my way downstairs just as Royce came home.

"Early," I commented slowly, walking arrogantly past him as he made a move to embrace me.

He sighed, and left the room, obviously having no will to deal with the guilt invoking stares I threw at him.

The night grew chilled with the sun setting, the weather outside turning from rain into a flaky sleet. The closest thing to snow, before it could actually start snowing. I stared out of the windows in the day room as it slowly turned to night, remaining interrupted throughout, until finally, I saw the white haze of snow fall flitting to the ground.

Our new housekeeper, Isaiah, a young black man from South Carolina, was preparing dinner. There were just four days left until Christmas, the tree was set up high and twinkling in the sitting room. I wandered to the dining table as Isaiah coaxed William and Henry from their bedrooms. I wandered into the next room, the fire roaring beyond the sofas. I watched Royce leaning tensely against the mantelpiece. He had an empty scotch glass in his hand, as per usual. The fire flickered golden light against the crystal facets.

"Let's go for a walk," I requested softly, holding my hand out willingly for him to take.

A spark in his eye, he set the glass down, which elated me momentarily before he picked up a bottle full of the acrid substance.

I sighed but allowed him to bring it along, although grudgingly threw the offending drink a malevolent glare.

"We shan't be long," I added as I pulled my coat down from the wooden stand and gathered my scarf along with it.

Royce followed suit amicably, opening the large wooden front door for me and leading me out into the chill of the snowy night.

I wrapped my arms around myself, admiring the bare skeletal trees on either side of the drive, a hauntingly beautiful salute to the cruelty of winter.

Royce gripped his bottle like a child would grip a blanket and sidled up to me. We walked, and nothing was spoken. Our feet made a printed circuit in the light layer of snow and slush on the ground.

I made my way through the backyard of the estate, far from the interruption of my family, and only with a mere, dull light, glowing from the frosted windows of the house.

"What are we doing, Royce?" I asked, turning to face him with a collected expression.

"Why must you keep punishing me?" he demanded sadly, in a slow whisper.

Did I have any inclination to hurt him? My own internal question caught me off guard, as if my mind had been ignoring that possibility for months. That I would in fact, want to hurt him, the way I hurt.

I hurt so badly.

Why must I be the only one to suffer?

"I wanted you to understand, to know what you've done has broken a part of what we have," I explained, unable to maintain my calm.

"You don't need to act like a wench to get the message across, Rosie. I'm not as idiotic as Jonathon. I do understand when a relationship is being sabotaged."

I narrowed my eyes at him.

"My father has nothing to do with this, and you have no right to speak of him and mother. I could only envy what they had, what my father still has for her despite her death. You and I will never come close to their love. Do you know why?"

Royce had gone quiet, eyes slitted in challenge.

"It's because you're a coward!" I hissed maliciously.

His lower eye lid twitched on the left side, and I swore I saw the devil lying beyond those irises. He raised the bottle to his lips. The glug and swish of the liquid inside was the only noise I could hear besides my own ragged breathing.

Before he lowered it his hand and raised the other, slapping it hard across my cheek.

I gasped at the force and found myself stumbling, unequipped at that moment to maintain balance. I fell like a broken statue, shattering on the ground.

My palms tried to break my fall, collecting the rough surface of the ground and skinning them. I cried out in shock and pain. Royce spat on the ground beside me, dropping his bottle. It didn't break against the softened surface of the snow. It was unbreakable, forever present.

He squatted at my side and I sniffed, tears flowing. The darkness of the trees around us provided a canopy of cover, hopefully no one saw Royce's overreaction.

He reach out to brush my hair from my face in apology before I reached out, curling my fingers and clawing at his hand with a fierce stroke. He growled, pulling his hand back and fisting it as I scampered to get to my feet.

"Oh, God," I cried as he shouted at me.

"Rose! This is enough!"

"Stop, Royce. I won't say it again! This is over. The marriage is off!" I shrieked.

He stood a few feet away from me, an odd look to his face. A resolve he had come to. An angry, bitter hate mixed with unquenched desire.

"I'm sorry," he whispered, closing his eyes.

My body slouched slightly, a guilty weight on my shoulders as I realized I was successful in hurting him.

"Royce," I stammered weakly, a sob breaking free.

It was over and I stumbled closer to stupidly comfort the man I hated to love.

His head was lowered, his hand curled around his chin and cheek as I got closer. I touched his hair and his head shot up, a yell raking up his throat as he grabbed my arms, pushing me back with such force so that he fell on top of me.

I shouted. He cried.

I screamed. He whispered.

He tore my clothes apart, pulling at my arms and legs, fighting to take something from me. I sucked in a breath, but his hand closed over it, pressing so hard it hurt my teeth. And as he pushed my dress up, it gathered the snow around me, encasing me in the freezing ice, a crying cadaver.

The clink of his belt coming undone finalized what I knew would happen.

The pain confirmed it.

The burning was unbearable, my head tossing back and forth, my arms reaching out to scratch at his eyes but holding no purchase.

I should have hurt him more. I should have run.

His hands touched everywhere, soiling everything. Like his hands were covered in a black ink of corruption, and my skin was the lily white paper he was creasing and tainting. The black marks covered my body, and I was wrenched from childhood, taken from happiness.

I let my face fall to the side, staring off into the distance at the dead trees with a deadened sight and a numb body.

My stomach hurt, my throat constricted.

And I wondered why my stone angel hadn't come to save me, why I couldn't become something powerful, something great.

I cried and begged for mercy in small whimpers.

My eyes to the sky, beseeching, as he became rougher, I pleaded to my mother.

A small plea to the only person that could help me, and also the only person that couldn't.

I kicked my legs out and I must have struck him, because he cursed loudly, pulling on my shoulders and lifting my head from the ground to strike me in the face repeatedly.

I wanted death, now, more than ever.

It was the only thing that Royce successfully delivered, and I could almost forgive him for granting me that one mercy when he slammed my head into the stone garden seat off to our left.

I knew I would die now.

_I'm on my way, Evelyn._

I felt my limp body being carried, the smell of Royce's breath was heavy on my nose and then my back was on the ground, my head lolling until I felt my face half buried in water and snow. I knew I wasn't on the Hale estate anymore.

And I knew I wouldn't see Royce again.

A small smile turned the corner of my lips up before my body began to burn.

~0~Present Day ~0~

Jacob tensed immediately, and I was preparing myself for ashamed humiliation if the movement was Emmett.

I hastily covered myself, reclothing and throwing Jacob's clothes at him. He ignored it, and lowered himself into a crouch.

"Jake!" I hissed.

"Relax," Edward murmured, appearing on the edge of the clearing.

"The pack is wondering where you are, Jacob," he claimed. "They've found a trail. We think it might be a newborn. The scent is fresh."

Jacob phased, a growl ripping from his throat as I hesitated.

"What do you want me to do?" I asked humbly.

Edward shot me a look of apology.

"You have to stay here; the others have spread out to canvass the area. Regular protocol for them, Rose. It's not safe for you to fight," he said before disappearing after my wolf.

I spun in the opposite direction, heading for the Canadian border and the Olympic range.

I caught a trail, the smell slamming into me as if it were a physical wall. My head snapped left, and I followed it, feeling a familiar sense of awareness and foreboding.

This trail would lead me to a newborn. I needed to be prepared. I was weakened, but I couldn't _not_ help. I was still a part of this battle. I might not be the center of it, but I wanted to help my family. I owed it to them. I owed my loyalty to Emmett, and the others, as well as Jake.

"I knew you'd follow my scent. It's just instinct isn't it?"

My feet slammed into the ground, my shoes digging into the soil before I was at a complete stand still.

I listened silently, pivoting on the spot, trying to search for the voice.

"You're in denial," they chuckled.

I zeroed in on the pale, stone hand resting on a tree trunk a mere twenty feet away, and let out a wicked snarl.

"Where's Victoria?" I growled, curling into a crouch.

The pale hand disappeared before a whole body appeared.

My body numbed and I felt my heart thud animatedly before I crumpled to the ground at the sight of him.

Royce smiled, pale, and like death, a white shadow of his former human darkness.

"Now, now, Rosie. Let's not get sentimental with our reunion. And what makes you think I have _anything_ to do with that red-headed wench?"


	15. Sinner of Past and Present Life

Vassup, Guys? Props to my beta: Labeano2002.

~Essenza Del Lupo

* * *

In the dark a goddess awaits,

Gilded hair like braided wheat,

She who doesn't decide the fate

Of her own release in death;

Immortality with each breath,

The sinner of past and present life,

He sucks the beauteous soul from flesh;

Beware the wicked, bloody knife.

"You—I killed you, I—how—" I stammered, my hands curling into fists as he advanced with alien grace towards my crouched form.

I swiftly got to my feet again; the shock still remained like glass shrapnel shredding my nervous system.

He circled, pouncing like a trained lion. I dodged his grasp, a hand appearing and slamming into the side of my head. The resounding crack sounded foreign to my ears, it echoed sickeningly around me, spiraling through the trees like an alarm of pain.

My limbs numbed and collapsed in on themselves as the ground rising up to my face capturing my limp body in a merciless vortex of gravity. I could feel more hands grab fistfuls of my hair, wrenching upwards to raise my face to the sky.

The starry night felt keenly wicked, beautiful in its bizarreness, but distant, cold, and inhuman. My blurred vision was blocked by a dark figure; Royce's face came into focus with frightening clarity. I saw my death in his eyes.

I saw a little man wishing to be a big man.

I watched vestiges of humanity disappear in his expression, a livid hate moulding the malicious shape of his smile. Apart from undeniable strength, I saw the same Royce I feared eight decades ago.

And with no power separating us, we stood on the same level; equal in physicality, I, possibly inferior. I felt cheated, the only advantage I had, I also shared with the demon I wished to triumph over.

My last tears shed over my dirt smeared hands, my brittle soul shrieking in a hollow prison of darkness. My celestial being was stripped of it's feathery enclosure, a torment deeper than death staining it's white purity.

Royce's bitter scent flowed thickly off of his skin, cascading around me in punishment, a reckoning of my immortal sins.

He knelt down to look at me closely, tipping my chin with his fingers. I snarled in rage as he chuckled again. Habitually, he stared at me like a condescending adult; a man looking at a woman from the time we both prevailed.

"Nonsense, Miss Hale. You _nearly_ killed me, don't give yourself that much credit. You didn't go all the way. Obviously young and naive, you thought you had." He smirked, then slowly, his smile dropped into a scowl.

Narrowing his eyes, he said, "Maybe some part of you didn't want to kill me, still loved me the way you never stopped."

I growled, rage boiling and snapping the tethers of my stability.

"Shut up!" I screeched wildly, working to pull away from the brainless, minions he had restraining me. "Shut up!"

"Shhh..." he pressed his forefinger to my lips.

"Although, I thought I had killed you, also. I was, however, inebriated...what's your excuse?"

My hate prickled over my skin, it felt as if I was burning up, collecting and absorbing heat to fuel my anger like oxygen feeding a golden flame.

"Who turned you? Who did it?" I demanded.

I felt an odd suspicion of Carlisle, his impossibly compassionate personality—could he have saved him behind my back?

"That's hardly in your best interests, Rosie. Besides, what's done is done," he added, almost bitterly.

"What do you want from me? It isn't enough that you killed me once before, you have to finish the job almost a century later? What took you so long?" I taunted in a low, collected voice.

I wanted to make him squirm in his new secure identity.

"You finally plucked up the courage? ...now see, I don't think that's it at all..." I whispered, straining hard to smother the screams of pain wallowing in the pit of my stomach.

The newborns were tugging on my hair harshly, pinning their knees into the curve of my back to keep me still.

"You're right that I didn't come here just to build bridges over a misunderstanding from _years_ ago—", he began.

"Misunderstanding?" He was doing it to play with me, to fire me up, and I was stupidly taking the bait. "You murdered me! In cold blood! You fought against a woman, young and vulnerable to the evil in the world, because you couldn't stand up to my father, or your own! Because you couldn't _look_ at yourself!" I spat acidly, conjuring eons of repressed malignancy into every word.

"You were so full of pride for your work, so proud that _you_ could only control _me_, you disgusting bastard!"

Stone collided with stone, his hand to my jaw; I felt the bone beneath my weakening skin, become loose, dislocating from my skull.

A gurgle erupted from my throat, a bloody tenor. I tried to scream, but at the same time, hide the disadvantages of my humanness, but Royce had already noticed. By the time my jaw was gradually fusing back into place, the joint stiff but partially mobile, the blood was oh so present. My teeth had cut into my cheek and tongue. My resignation leaked out from the corners of my mouth and ran a morbid river down my chin and neck as if I'd been hunting and not hurting.

"Ah," he whispered with wide, wondrous eyes.

I struggled futilely, as he lifted his finger to my neck, running it up the middle of my throat. He did it slowly, sensually. I felt like gagging as he touched me. I wanted justice, a rebuttal, a defense. Mostly, I wanted the world to dissolve before my eyes.

I wished that this life could be a dream, that this place was all a creation, and that Royce only existed as an insignificant foe in my memory, and nightmares. The sinner of past and present life.

I watched with vivid revulsion, as he brought his bloodied finger to his lips, sucking on it with a renewed vigor. The satisfaction was clear on his face.

"Tell me, darling—how do you do that peculiar thing that you do?" he murmured, squatting in front of me.

"Do what?" I muttered petulantly.

He whipped his hand back against my cheek at my insolence to his request.

"Enough now, Rose, don't make me beg," he sung sarcastically.

I shook my head, spitting more blood out of the corner of my mouth.

"I don't know. That's the big secret. I have no fucking idea, satisfied?" I snapped.

He sighed, pursing his lips and frowning at me, inspecting my face and body as you would a painting, or statue of some sort.

"Odd, so curiously odd," he mused.

"Why do you care, anyway?"

His eyebrows rose.

"What gives you the idea that I would tell you?" he laughed in faux surprise. "I have no inclination to tell you anything until _you_ do."

"I don't know! I told you! It just happened recently!" I cried in strong despair.

He pouted.

"Are we really going to play this game? Are you honestly going to try and hide things from me, after all this time? Come now, Rose. We're mature, worldly beings now. Shouldn't we embrace our powers, even if yours are somewhat, personally useless?" he bargained.

I didn't budge, but one word caught me off guard and piqued my attention.

"Personally?"

He bit his lip and nodded.

"It may prove to be fatally unlucky for you, but this problem of yours could be an asset to _us._"

"Who? You and your cronies? You still can't do anything by yourself can you?" I goaded.

He just smiled in a way that made me shiver, a superior, all-knowing smile that said I was missing the bigger picture. My jeering smile vanished, replaced with an ominous fear. His hand cupped my cheek and I just stared up at him.

"How would you like to come back to my parent's home country?" he asked.

I blinked in confusion.

I heard another person approaching. His scent hit me, and I could breathe hope. I sucked in a lungful of air, fearing his involvement, but also fearing I'd never see him again.

His roar filled the air, the two newborns behind me were distracted. I spun around so I was facing the ground, shoving brutally at their stomachs with each hand. They released their hold on me at once, flying backwards ungracefully. They were very new, they were not trained properly for attack, they were only here to follow the lead.

Royce grabbed me from my vulnerable side, my back, wrapping his arms tightly around my own, cracking at least four ribs in the process with the amount of compression his strength caused.

I tried desperately to suck in a breath through the excruciating pain, so agonizing that my ears popped, and my vision blurred and faded around the edges.

Why must I lose myself at the wrong time? Why must I lose the fight now?

Jacob rolled one of the newborns, crushing them into a tangled stone mess while the other watched on, vicious but unsure of what to do, hesitant to join a hopeless battle. I was sure, though, that they'd get themselves killed if Royce ordered it.

Victoria seemed to materialize out of nowhere. Her flare of red hair grasped my attention, while Jacob successfully disposed of the second newborn.

She curled her hand around my neck and whistled for Jacob's attention.

She cackled maniacally as he watched, helplessly animal, and unable to speak if he wanted to live. He couldn't phase back, or he'd so easily be killed.

She arched my neck back, licking up the line of my collarbone, collecting some of the sticky blood still there, with her tongue. She hummed contently, almost on purpose, to try and make Jake angrier. Perhaps she wanted to see how far she could go before he tried to attack. I only hoped he had more restraint than I gave him credit for.

Situations reversed, however, I know I'd be on them in the blink of an eye, annihilating any threat they posed to the one I loved.

At that moment, I wished he didn't love me, so then I knew he wouldn't get hurt trying to save me.

Saving something as worthless as I. Preserving life that was not life. I became dead weight in their arms as I wished for another universe to swallow us up.

I dreamt for stars to explode, to shower me in a sparkling daze for eternity, leaving me with nothing but the security of my love by my side.

"Where's the human?" she whispered in my ear.

"She's long gone," I grunted, unable to give my voice any volume.

I almost smiled at her sinister disappointment. Out of spite, she slammed her fist into my ribs, the ones that had just been broken. I screamed so loudly, I doubt anyone would have missed it. Everyone heard it that night, everyone heard me.

I could feel the forest go silent with fear.

Jacob came running towards us and I shrieked hysterically, unintelligible gibberish, trying to keep him at bay.

"I'm assuming that if we do enough damage to her body, she may actually die?" she giggled childishly as I felt tears tracking down my face.

I must have been bleeding internally, one of my splintered bones would have punctured an organ (now they could be called "vital organs", in my case) and was now hemorrhaging.

"And she'll be in tremendous pain!" she yelled louder, so Jacob could hear.

His snarling didn't stop, his rage radiating so violently from him that I could feel it hum through my body like electricity through metal.

"We could bring her to the brink of death over and over without her dying. Only severe injury, repeated over and over, will actually kill her. We can demonstrate if you like?" she shrilled, offering the choice to Jacob as if they were playing a game.

I imagined Victoria as a playful, stupid, naive little human, possibly abused or bullied. She loved James, a man who didn't love her back; and yet she would die for him, and spend the rest of her life on a vendetta, seeking revenge on a man like my brother, Edward.

We were ghosts on a chess board; pale nothings playing hide and seek, calling bluffs and crying shame. They played a card and watched their opponent sweat. Jacob stayed stock still, revealing nothing. Who would throw a snake-eyes?

Who were the real gamblers?

"I suppose we'll be off now, need to catch that flight," Royce chimed in unexpectedly, almost in a detached manner.

"I thought you didn't have anything to do with Victoria," I croaked drowsily, my eyes glazing slowly over her shape at the corner of my eye.

I could feel Royce's body shake with laughter against my back.

"Well, I don't. Nevertheless, we do work for the same power," he explained easily.

"I thought you weren't going to tell me anything," I challenged weakly.

He laughed again, this time he seemed genuinely amused.

"Nice deduction; actually, you were going to realize that anyway. And you _think_ a lot of things, don't you, Rosie?" he murmured against the shell of my ear.

His breath brushing against my neck and cheek, I could _almost_ smell the liquor he used to binge on. He carried it with him.

Same power? What could I possibly make out of that?

"This has been wonderfully perverted, and unnatural," Royce commented, indicating Jacob with a jut of his chin. "But we're on a dead line—Victoria," he spoke to her now. "Order the others to finish _that_." He indicated Jacob again.

I wailed out in protest.

"No! Please! I'll go with you! I promise, just leave him! You'll only be upsetting the pack! You'll provoke them, and they will kill you. My family will kill you. Just leave him!" I managed to string this sentence together before my head grew even lighter.

Royce was dragging me up into his arms, bridle style. The irony of it was lost in the back of my head; the corpse bride returned to her evil first love, the darkest deed imaginable. He carried me away in speedy flight, a black silhouette; our reunion a mean, backwards symbol of a bond that never dies.

~0~ Jacob~0~

How the fuck had I not seen this happening? They go for the weak link in the chain, the vulnerable edge of the field. I should have told her to go home. I should have said... something!

And now, this scum holds her in a vice grip, embracing her like they're lovers. I know she's in pain, I know it. I can't scream, or yell, or shout for her. I can't tell her it's going to be okay, I can't speak in this body.

I feel her pain, a throbbing echo of what she feels in reality. It's difficult to focus on a logical plan of getting her free. What do they want with her? The only explanation could be her humanization…or whatever it was that was happening to her.

But how was Victoria involved?

The bloodsucker picks her up and cradles her in his arms, too affectionately. I despair and rage at the sight of it. Who is he?

He orders her to get rid of me as he moves to run away.

Victoria whistled once more, conjuring another pack of newborns, circling me like hungry sharks around a whale carcass. Like the wild animal I was, I disposed of them without compassion, without empathy, without remorse. I fought them to get to her. Victoria became a blur as she disappeared. I bit down roughly into their bodies, their stone limbs falling in dull thuds to the ground. At some point, I wanted them to kill me.

I was joined by Carlisle, the head vamp of the Cullens. He must have heard the commotion or picked up the scents. He helped me destroy the last newborn, another fragment of human life, selfishly wasted on those already dead.

I ran after them, ran in the direction I was sure he took her. But they were already gone.

I phased back involuntarily, unable to sustain my form when I was falling apart from the inside out.

I dove into the soil, grazing up one side of my naked body. Without missing a beat, I stood up and started running on my bare feet, determined and insane with denial.

"Rose!" I yelled. "ROSALIE!"

I kept running, fighting the last images of her in my head: I had watched the dead stranger take my _life_ away from me.


	16. Essenza Del Lupo: La debolezza

Essenza Del Lupo~

Disclaimer: I don't own Twilight. If you thought I did, bitches be trippin'.

Thanks for the reviews for last chapter; very lovely, some very intuitive musings, might I add, about this chapter, and who this 'power' is. Very well done, and thank you heaps, guys.

* * *

Children laughed mercilessly, cheeks painted an enticingly pink hue as they laughed and chased and didn't care. Adults circled one another, grasping their daughter's hand, or their son's shirt sleeve.

The atmosphere was jovial in Volterra.

"I should have known you'd try to climb your way up the vampiric social ladder," I seethed, snatching my arm out of Royce's grasp as he escorted me through the golden city of death.

The stone walls seemed to absorb the sun instead of reflecting it, it's cheerful red flags and tasselled embellishments made it seem more benign than it really was. I felt like, as I took each reluctant step towards my fate, that I was falling into some kind of bottomless terrain, a tunnel with no end, no light, and no way out.

I was going to die here, or live forever here.

I couldn't decide which was worse.

If only I could be brave, the one who lived fear without being touched by it.

Royce grasped my hand again, gloved with black leather. I had been given different clothes before arriving here. I should have understood 'here' was Volterra. I should have deduced within seconds that this 'power' that Victoria and Royce both worked for, would be The Volturi.

I was gutted, my mind obliterated with the inconceivability of fighting with Vampire Royalty.

My family would have no chance; they'd either die trying to save me, or die trying to hide. I knew they would hide, they would have to, or risk losing slim chance they had now, nothing is worth losing the Cullens. Definitely not me. But that didn't stop me from hoping they would look for me.

They built a life away from underworld corruption, their own piece of solace in a world that would call us monsters if they knew of our existence. Carlisle, my father, as I've never thought to tell him, is a wise, brave soul, a reason I have to believe there is better beyond what we have now.

Carlisle gave me a second life, however tumultuous it may be, he couldn't bear to see a young girl die too soon, a white feather weakened with the weight of oozing blood, my body had been laying, beaten and ashen in a dark alley by a newsagency.

Such a kind, selfless person like Carlisle, more human than anyone, should protect what he had left.

The chiffon scarf that was wrapped around my head whipped with the wind, concealing my neck and cheeks, my sunglasses obscuring most of the rest of my face from the sun that was beating relentlessly down upon the Town Square, the clock tower rising ominously before us, like a beacon warning of hellish decent.

The walls of the city reeked of obliviousness; faces, idle, human and ignorantly blissful as my captor dragged me alongside him, some royal guards surrounding us surreptitiously, keeping a subtle distance so as not to attract unwanted attention. Its not as if they'd need more than two Vampires to keep me here. I wasn't prepared for a fight against one of them, let alone a small army. Besides, they would probably threaten the prospect of torture, or even, sickeningly, the life of an innocent human. Frighteningly, I wouldn't have any power to prevent it. These Vampires feed off the population here, freely; what would one extra life be, if they planned on slaughtering several more to sate their appetites?

I watched my feet, moving in petulantly sluggish steps in Gucci heels, procured from a female Volturi guard who'd met us at the airport. It was difficult to say which she enjoyed more, my helplessness, or the fact that she got to dress me.

I also recognised that the least things I had of my own, the harder it would be for anyone to find me. My scent was muffled slightly the moment I'd changed clothes and skipped countries. They also had to ensure my skin was obscured, as was Royce's, from the elements which sought to reveal what we really are.

I wanted to tear his head from his body.

He tugged on my hand, which caused a twinge in my abdomen; my wounds hadn't fully healed yet, and my ribs had only just set into place. His roughness risked breaking them again, although I doubt he was aware, or even cared.

I was pulled down a narrow back-alley, my heart clenching with the emergence of horrid memories of a dirty New York gutter. But it wasn't covered with the slosh of melting winter snow, and I wasn't choking on the last shimmer of life threading through my chest and dissolving into dust and death within cold veins.

The temperature dropped as I stepped into a round man-hole set into the cobbled walkway, after Royce had lifted the metal grate concealing it. I followed the two female Vampires who went down before me, Royce followed behind myself before two more male Vampire guards toppled gracefully down the foreboding chute.

It was dark. Death bled from the walls and seeped into my skin; breaking promises, sealing fates and grinding hope into black powder.

I stumbled as Royce grasped my side tightly with his hand, clutching the tender, still-healing muscle and flesh around fractured, fusing bones. I gasped in discomfort as he chuckled.

"You used to love me; why are you doing this?" I found myself asking as I gritted my teeth over the pain, refusing to breathe too heavily.

We continued to walk as if nothing had been uttered, when finally Royce opened his mouth once we reached the front lobby of the Volturi's quarters.

"I loved the money our relationship was providing. And, of course, with prohibition being a needle in my ass, your father's connections were of great help." He answered, almost wistfully.

He pushed me into the light of the open corridor, a heavy, wooden door held open in front of me as I unsteadily walked inside.

"I never loved you, Rose." He smiled, clarifying what I already knew. "But, surely, you can't blame me. I know you never loved me, either."

* * *

~0~

"Miss Rosalie Cullen-Hale." Aro breathed in awe, his hands ghosting possessively over my face, his eyes appraising me as if I was a valuable artefact, a trinket to add to his collection.

I stared around me at the Vampires who pledged themselves to the protection of this Royal Court, this archaic system of government consisting of nothing but bones and brittle flesh, masking the hearts and minds of the cowardly undead. These men, these Volturi, wore suits and gowns, gilded with ancient crests and symbols, not passed down from previous rulers, but created by themselves to substantiate their own child-like longing to be big men.

Their disciples weren't any better, their blind allegiance a true sign of cowardice in a world where they could achieve greatness in singularity.

I pitied their existence as I knew they were extremely indispensable, the only valuable Vampires in the guard were the ones who could call themselves apart of The Volturi itself, not just a soldier, or protector.

My eyes flickered back to Aro as his hand closed around my left wrist, his other hand rubbing small circles in my palm. His mouth twitched in amusement and wonder, before he quickly dropped my hand, his eyes revealing a keen unease.

"Caius, Marcus; do you see what we have here?" he murmured softly, eyes still locked on me.

I had been stripped of my gloves, my glasses, my scarf and my long-sleeved jacket. I was in a sweater and jeans, and through my increasing humanness, it did nothing to maintain any warmth within me. I was almost shivering with the iciness of the cavernous room we were in, round, made completely of stone with narrow pylons beside Marcus' and Caius' thrones, the empty one placed between them must have been Aro's.

"Why, I've only seen this happen once before..." he grinned, eyes bright and child-like in their wonder.

"Caius, surely you remember Felicyta? The little Polish Vampire in 1537? She had the same peculiar condition that our lovely Miss. Hale seems to have procured." He clapped his hands together.

"THIS IS PERFECT!" He crowed in spectacular triumph.

"Grand," Caius commented vaguely.

"Brilliant." Marcus added, both far less invigorated by this than Aro with his increasing enthusiasm.

My mind reeled at the occurrence of another Vampire turning human, or perhaps with just the symptoms of physical humanity.

"You mustn't worry about the details just now, Rosalie, darling." Aro soothed, as if I was a friendly guest making a fuss about party decorations.

He must have registered the solid look of concentration on my face as I wondered about this Felicyta. Was she still alive? Was she still a Vampire? If she died, did she die human, or did she die Vampire?

"The only disappointment is, she knows nothing of how it's happened. Besides the possibility of a post-coital side-effect... Who knows what one might experience after a few too many trysts with _questo lupo!_" he began laughing.

"Is it the _essenza del lupo_ that causes this humanity? This _debolezza_? This weakness?" he questioned, peering into my eyes as if the answer would appear through the hatred I exuded through them.

"Anche se, questo non può essere visto come una debolezza, ma un potere ..." He sighed longingly, almost resignedly.

"You think this is a power?" I screeched into his face. "What do you think you can find out how to make yourself human again? You'd sacrifice your King's throne for prance in the sun? That's a little more bold than I'd expect from any of you." I spat, seething at their hideous smiles.

Aro looked lightly offended, as if he was worried I'd gotten the wrong idea and hoped to amend it kindly.

"No, dear; but you see, there are covens in existence that wish to disband our family, our law. These Vampires need to be dealt with in accordance to these laws. Laws that are set in place to prevent the extinction of our kind. We do not wish to waste you on finding a cure for ourselves, merely as a weapon to destroy everyone else." His smile seemed genuine, a warm contradiction to the cold, calculating insanity of his proposal.

My eyes widened as he snatched my hand in his again, tightly and purposefully.

I hate that he saw me, saw my everything. It was almost as if I could feel him in my head, feel the icy prodding of his methodical violation; my eyes hurt with the pressure of trying to push him out. It wasn't fair, that he could take what's mine, what my eyes have seen, what only I have observed, loved, cherished, broken; his power dragging every thought, every memory I ever had, like thick, tangling wisps of light, both images and words my own, now irreversibly and unwillingly shared.

"My thoughts are my own," I growled defensively, as I felt him teeter and hesitate on a few that flashed through my head.

When Royce almost killed me, when Carlisle _actually_ "killed" me, but gave me a reversed life, when I changed Emmett, when I found Jacob...

I snarled in rage, feeling fiercely protective of my memories of him, his touch embedded in a soft, warm pocket of devotion that up until this point, only he and I shared. Now it was in the minds of three.

I reeled backwards, physically trying to disconnect the channel created between our brains; Aro let go of me. The sudden release caused me to fall to the floor. Still in defensive mode, I curled into a crouch, my instincts rusty but sunk deeply into my bones.

"Now, now," Aro tried to rouse me from my fury, lifting a hand to keep his guards at bay as I rumbled with loathe.

"We only want your help, my lovely guest. Besides, you're my dear friend, Carlisle's charge. I should never wish to harm you the way you are thinking." He promised, placing his hands together in a way that resembled someone praying.

He stepped closer and I attacked.

My body blazed with fiery heat, agonising in it's intensity. I clawed at my skin, screaming in pain and anguish. I felt like my blood was boiling, my skin peeling and bubbling with the heat. I dropped from my offensive posture, falling flat and helpless onto my back. I could barely see straight, or register anything above the depths of this _pain!_

"ARRGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" My voice echoed off the stone walls, shuddering like a violent wind.

"_STOP, PLEASE, I'LL DO ANYTHING. __**STOP!**_" My mouth begged, shaping the words from unintelligible screams.

"That's enough, Jane," I heard Aro say.

The pain slipped away immediately, almost as if nothing had happened at all. There was no lasting burning, no evidence at all of what I'd just experienced. I lay there, shocked and disoriented at the lack of feeling. There was unimaginable pain, and suddenly it was gone, vanished.

I understood why Carlisle spoke of her with such disdain. The aspect of the Volturi that may have been the most malicious addition; Jane, with the uncanny ability to manipulate a centre of the victim's brain into feeling pain.

Agony which doesn't physically exist.

Aro's face appeared above me, and he stood back as I got back to my feet.

"That was inexcusable, Rosalie." He admonished darkly, a stark contrast to this initial cheer.

"What do you want from me? How the hell does my condition have anything to do with destroying anybody? What can you use me for that won't immediately kill me? Are you going to throw me at them? Hang me on a string and use me as bait?" I spat into his face, suddenly very unafraid of what he could do to me.

His guard advanced on me, the circle contracting around us as I continued my tirade of incessant stupidity.

"Think of someone. Think of Jacob Black." He smiled gleefully, watching my eyes shade over with thoughts of him.

I was reluctant to do as he asked, but my mind worked reflexively, thinking of Jacob the moment he was mentioned.

Aro's hands closed on either side of my skull, and for one wicked moment, I wished he'd crush it between his palms, ending this. But, as if he was controlling me, I kept searching for Jacob in my mind, finding this link that kept me safe, gave me comfort. I dredged up his face, and felt Aro jolt, his body shuddering in some bizarre convulsion.

It was then that I saw Jacob, human, conversing with my family, such a crystal clear moment, their voices clean and crisp, the image of the moment visible to me as if I was standing there next to him.

"Jacob!" I cried, his head never turning in my direction, nobody noticing my presence.

He was covered in dirt, his eyes red and wild. My family were discussing something before their voices faded. I wanted, oh so badly to stay there with them, in a fake sense of security, to pretend I was back home and happy. But reality told me to get out of there; something was dodgy about this, and I think I realised then how Aro wanted to use me. I pulled myself out of this image of them, feeling my stomach pull uncomfortably, my throat tightening and my chest shuddering as if I was being tugged back into the dream state by a sharp hook.

I breathed in heavily, forcing my eyes open with an outraged regret, and equal horror.

I'd just shown Aro something even I hadn't known.

His eyes opened, and in them I saw the same thing; shock, but also something I did not possess.

Delight.

My mouth hanging open, I dare not speak. Aro, however, knew my suspicions, and answered them verbally.

"Yes, you're going to make a brilliant tracker, my sweet Rose."

* * *

~0~

"No! No!" I shrieked against Demetri and Felix as they guided me through the cavernous rooms and endlessly lifeless corridors of their ancient castle.

My feet dragged along the ground, fighting their strength, and gaining no purchase. They were double my strength, and Demetri was the largest Vampire I'd ever seen, containing nothing else but pure brute strength. If I had any hope at escape, it would never occur in his presence.

"Wait! Please!" I demanded, my voice high and keening, carried high and flowing through the halls.

I was almost sure the outside world could hear my calls, my cries; understand the desperation, the danger leeching into every word and letter that dribbled from my mouth in terrified sobs.

My body became limp in their arms, although the dead weight would have barely registered with them had I not ceased my screaming.

"What if Aro decides to kill you, too, once he's done with everyone else? What if he wants to be the only Vampire...?" I whispered as they silently carried me through the darkness.

Neither spoke, and I had a feeling they had a steadfast belief that would never happen.

It was like I was talking to the dead themselves, upright corpses with reddened eyes, laden with unemotional motives, and a timeless carelessness.

Demetri had his left arm under my right, and Felix with his right arm under my left. I wasn't resisting anymore; perhaps I could think better while I was in solitary.

"Where are you taking me?" I murmured in resignation.

The stone floor seemed to slant before cresting at a landing of steps, taking us deeper into a series of underground chambers. Water from the city above dripped down the walls, mould and moss gathered on every surface of the area. We walked through an arch way that was only inches above the top of Demetri's head. Because Felix was considerably shorter than his counterpart, I was being carried at an awkward angle.

My body ached, and I wished I was back to normal, I wished I had my strength, my speed, my agility.

But I was weak, and vulnerable. I felt like Rosalie Hale did in 1933, it made me feel ill. I felt like I had sold out the ones I loved. If I had any idea about this additional gift, would the outcome have been different? Was Felicyta's?

The cold made me feel like I was disappearing, a mist closing in on me, a suffocating veil of something impending. I also smelled another presence, and it occurred to me that there could be more captives down here. They must starve the ones that were here so it would be difficult for them to escape. We must have travelled almost a mile of tunnels and halls until they slowed, and turned, throwing me unceremoniously to the ground.

My knees scraped, my jeans ripping as I felt the flesh lift and start to bleed before swiftly knitting back together. It was only minor, so it healed quickly. But, I noticed, the process was gradually getting slower in pace. I would soon be healing at the pace of a human, I deduced. Maybe I'd cease to heal at all. Perhaps I'll die from injuries.

Mud and grit from the floor covering my legs up to my knees, soaking the fabric of my pants as I recovered from my fall, my guards already having vanished. The bolt of the thick metal-barred door in front of me was still clanging. I looked around me at the walls with no windows, the dreary green and grey walls, the moisture hanging in the air like a lead weight around me. I held my knees up to my chest and and leant my cheek against them, weeping silently as I tried to forget where I was.

"There is no way in hell," I heard someone breathe in awe.

The voice, strangled, came out of the darkness. My head shot up at the sound, searching around me for the source. I squinted, as my eyes adjusted to the lack of light. Small slivers of it came from the ceiling above us, providing just enough. I scooted forward, my hands curling around the wet, iron bars of my cage. My cell had to be roughly the size of two standard prison cells. It was old, no telling how old.

There were shackles still attached to the sandstone walls.

I was sitting, looking out of my confinement, facing another cell across a narrow thoroughfare.

"Hello?" I whispered shakily, eyes stinging, heart thundering.

I wiped my tears on the sleeve of my sweater and waited.

A figure moved in the opposite cell, a leg came into view, as did another, and then an arm, and another one following that. An entire person appeared, emaciated-looking, but pale and marble-like.

"You're a vampire," I murmured in only slight surprise.

I was sure it was male as he mimicked my position, curling his fingers around the bars and leaning closer to the light source. His face was in shadow, a blonde mop of hair visible only just.

"By God, you have no idea how long I've searched...so many years...so many...you can't be real."

For one, daft slip of rationality, my mind jumped at the possibility of this stranger being Jacob. It was hope playing cruel tricks on my exhausted mind.

I frowned at the man as he lifted his chin, observing me; his features painfully familiar. He pressed his forehead against the bars, a hysterical grin spreading over his face as his black eyes flicked over me.

"Rosalie." He whimpered in disbelieving panic and wonder.

Realisation felt like a whipping shock of electricity; dread traipsed over my heart, a stampede of nightmares, ghouls and the dark swallowed me whole, stealing my voice and the tepid heat of my heart.

His eyes bored into mine. He must have been middle-aged when he was turned.

I was struck with recognition the moment he uttered my name, as if my immortal age meant nothing, and he remained a child in my arms.

"William," I breathed, my vision fading to the safety of blackened oblivion.

* * *

**A/N: _debolezza: _**_Weakness_

_Anche se, questo non può essere visto come una debolezza, ma un potere : Although this can not be seen as a weakness, but a power..._

And yeah, this chapter was heavy, I know. Can't wait to write more. :D


	17. The Way Death Finds You

You can thank lethar88 for this one. It's thanks to her, that I wrote this tonight. Thank you, my darling muse and encouragement.

To those who read my other stories, I'm trying, I REALLY AM.

Essenza Del Lupo~

* * *

Droplets of water fell from the ceiling of my cage; they splashed morosely on the mossy, mud-covered cobblestone floor.

The stone wept with unrestrained fragility, the cold walls mocking me with their bleak power. I had fallen asleep, or passed out, I wasn't entirely certain which. Could it be the shock of finding my beautiful brother, or exhaustion?

My limbs were flimsy and weak from my travels, and my body was shutting down to protect itself, to prolong my survival, even with the dash of death that slithered ice through my blood.

I wasn't human, but was I still Vampire?

When would I cross the line separating the two?

"Rosalie," William whispered.

I lifted my head from the floor, feeling the gunk lift from the stone floor and cling to my hair in dirty chunks.

My head spun as I reached for the thick iron bars in front of me, keeping me from my blood across the way, keeping a never ending distance between me and my William.

I curled my hands around the metal, bitingly cold in this subterranean captivity. I wondered, idly, how long it's been since these dungeons had been used. Perhaps decades, or centuries. Then again, the Volturi are malicious and power-hungry enough to restrain, imprison and torture whoever they feel threatens their "order".

To what extent will they practice this undeterred, indisputable authority?

My chest clenched with the possibilities to that question. I leaned forward, catching a narrow glimmer of light stretching down from the stairwell. The sensation of heat was barely there, like it was artificial light, and not of that belonging to the sun.

I was beginning to think neither of us would have the luxury of seeing it again.

"Are you alright now? You were rather incoherent for a while, you barely stirred." He murmured uncertainly.

Even with less extraordinary eye sight, I could attain the crease of worry in his brow, the invisible weight of the forgotten deceased on his shoulders, and the life withered in his eyes.

"Why, William?" I whimpered, my mouth stretching in despair.

"Why would you go and do this to yourself?" I demanded. "It's not possible that you were changed in a confrontation with a Vampire. You would have been drained and buried. You found someone, didn't you?" I asked, knowing how absurd the idea was, but believing it as the words were formed like moulded earth.

I heard chains chink together, clanging metallically with each move or shift my brother made to his posture. I hadn't noticed before. The shackles I saw on the walls of my own cell, were actually being used for my brother. He looked like a fly caught in a spider's web.

I suppose the Volturi guard were secure enough in my own vulnerability, that they didn't have to worry about theirs. I wasn't a threat.

Only those that love me are.

I stared at the large shackle encircling William's pale neck, and both his wrists. Chains drew out of the metal bands; my eyes followed them in all different directions, attached to each wall, and some, even, on the roof, and floor.

"What makes you think I could _find_ a Vampire?" William muttered, a little bitterly.

"...they found _you?_" I asked with acidic fury.

His eyes glistened with the truth of my assumption. He didn't look for death, death sought him out. Another sickening probability shone to life in my head.

"Was it Royce?" I whispered delicately, afraid my voice would rise high enough for the resident Vampires to hear.

He gripped the bars, too, his chains following the movement.

"No." He clarified.

A keen wave of relief flooded through me at his answer. Somehow, the idea that he had destroyed the both of us didn't leave me much peace of mind. I would be even more disappointed if he was responsible for my brother's pseudo-demise as he was of my near-death, and by the end of this, if I was unable to make him pay for it.

So, it begged; who would have known William Hale? Why would a Vampire come and find him?

"Then...who?"

~1956, Bellingham, Washington~

I drove down to the pier with trepidation. I distrusted this source as far as I distrusted the last phony I had dealt with. This lifestyle wasn't for kicks, and if anyone tried to pound some money out of my pocket in exchange for a vague story and dead-end leads, I would personally see to it that they'd fall off the grid.

That was the thing about vendettas, about life-long vocations; they grow so closely to your heart, that when someone compromises it, you become relentless.

I angled my 1953 _Hudson_ around the back of a corner drug store and turned it off. I retrieved the yellow piece of paper from my coat pocket, spreading the crinkled paper along the dash to read the print better. A message, left to me anonymously. They had left it at my hotel while I was out. Stepping out into the bitterly cold Washington air, I followed the sodden, grey path towards the rickety-looking pier. Fewer boats were docked, it was fishing season, and it was late in the evening.

The frothy shore broke in wretched crashes around the thick, wooden pylons holding the structure up. A light shone alone in the night, at the very end of the pier. I looked around me; dark and dismal buildings painted the street, concealing mostly fisheries and pubs.

The landscape was leeched of colour, the weather was miserable at the moment in Bellingham. This coastal town in Washington State was far removed from the East coast, but, I'd travel anywhere to find what I want. And so far, I'd been lead to this place.

I had the paper scrunched up in my palm again, before I shoved both hands into my pockets, hunched over to keep the chill from settling in my bones. I just wish they could have chosen a warmer meeting place. Inconspicuousness is fucking easier if I'm in a warm restaurant with nothing to complain about.

I swiftly approach the figure standing under the lamp. As I reach them, their features came into focus. I noted it must be a woman, which I wasn't expecting, going by the prominent curve of her hips. She was facing the ocean, her back straight and rigid. She wore a long, red scarf around her neck, tucked in neatly around her throat to flap freely in the breeze behind her.

I stopped next to her and she immediately turned around to address me.

"Good evening, William."

I frowned at her, narrowing my eyes. Her hair was dark and shiny, her skin a pallid contradiction to her obvious Hispanic, or European roots. With the combination of her dark hair and eyes, I expected her skin to be a luscious bronze. Her eyes are black, and her mouth is turned in just a way that a twinge of déjà vu has me tongue-tied.

The lull and melody of her voice is familiar...a string of rich, accented English. Her voice melts me, and I understand.

"Oh my God!" I shout suddenly, staring at the woman, wide-eyed.

"You-you're-I mean—Isabella?" I shake my head with disbelief.

Her face never changes, instead her eyes appraise me with warm depth. A shocked, intrigued and familial feeling surges through me, and I forget what I'm here for. I let out a breath, my smile stretching across my face before I can remember how it feels to actually be happy. Without asking, I wrap her in my arms, despite her silent and bitter depart from our family twenty years ago.

She only looks as if she has aged half of that time. I let my head settle low on her shoulder as her arms stretch around me to return the embrace. The wind and the rain whip around us, coating our skin and sucking the heat from our bodies. I feel her shudder in my arms and as I pull back, her face holds a bizarre expression. Like...desire. I try to hide my satisfaction, as well as my reciprocation. She seems to come to grips with herself before taking a step back from me.

"What are you doing here, Isabella? Where have you been? What have—what happened?" I tried to ask all the questions I had running around in my head for her; they just became entangled and desperate.

I _was _desperate. Desperate for the truth; a truth that nobody seemed to want to acknowledge or discover.

I was alone, and I guess it was actually heart-warming to see a friendly face. The prospect of a reunion between long-lost loved ones leaves one feeling exhilarated, hopeful and excited.

When she didn't answer, I pressed for more.

"How did you know I was in Washington?" I demanded, growing rather uneasy. "And...Isabella...what do you know about Rosalie?" my voice came out weak.

"William...why are you still looking for her?" she beseeched with a calm lilt, her eyebrows pulling together.

She watched me as if she was trying to decipher me, like I was brail, and her fingers roamed over me, reading, wondering...

I stared at her. The answer was clear to me, was it so ambiguous to everyone else? I often thought people would completely understand my drive.

"Rosalie was my sister. She was a teenager; yes, our family was falling apart, and she...we lost our mother, but..." I searched our old house-maid's eyes.

I thought about what forces beyond this earth lead her to me, after such a long time. Was it fate? Why did this moment exist; what purpose would it serve?

"...but...she was still a kid, and she just...she disappeared so quietly." I shrugged, the hollow scream of loss shrinking my voice and pulling at my heart.

"I want to know what happened to her." I cleared my throat.

It was peculiar how I've lived a majority of my life without her, and yet, even decades after she vanished, I can still feel the unforgivable ache of grief when I think about her.

"What do you remember about the last time you saw her?" she questioned, a perfect eyebrow arched.

I rubbed my hand against the stubble on my chin. I knew there were more than a few grey areas, this kind of life was expected to age me prematurely.

"I remember having dinner that night. We were far from formalities, so we didn't wait for Royce, or Rosalie to join us...I always thought he was involved, but...I don't know. I never liked him, I suppose I was biased. I remember going to bed, and that was it. The next morning, the police were in the living room with Royce. He was in his robe and night clothes. The detective came over to me and sat me down. He said, 'Mr. King here tells us his fiancée disappeared from their bed last night'. That's about all I can recall from the conversation."

She simply watched me.

"...I...uh, I thought about trying to...end it again. I was so sorry for the way I had treated Rose, after what she did for me. But then I thought of it being a kind of disservice to her efforts. And, after a few months, when nothing came up, and the police couldn't find anything...I vowed never to stop."

Isabella's eyes shone in a bizarre way. I felt so vulnerable and taken in by her gaze. I felt like I was being pulled into a vortex of desire and lust. My body was leaning inexplicably towards her, through some kind of compulsion. I didn't remember her being so beautiful.

She finally spoke, but when she did, I could only stare at her lips, plump, luscious...

"You've become a fine man...William," she sighed, and I realised her accent was sort of dulled.

She must have been living in America long enough to soften it.

"I wanted to meet with you today, because I know what you're doing, and because I have information."

I perked up.

"Information? What do you mean?" She was silent as the waves echoed around us, an ode to the grey brackish water.

"But first, I want you to promise me something."

"Anything." I breathed, my heart thumping fast.

"I want you to stop looking for her, William. She's gone."

"Isabella—"

"Promise me. You have to live your life, Will. This isn't a life, this is...this is insanity. Rosalie would have expected more from you." She said, with a grim set to her mouth.

Defensive, I folded my arms in front of my chest.

"Rosalie would have been disappointed if I gave up."

"She would have been disappointed if you gave up on yourself." She explained, and, regrettably, her words sewed doubt in my mind.

But only for a moment.

After no response from me, she took it as an affirmation.

"Royce is responsible." She said simply. "There, you got what you wanted, now stop, go on vacation, fall in love, die old and happy." Her head shook, and in her sorrowful eyes, I swear I saw jealousy and regret.

"Wait, how do you know that?" I insisted eagerly. "And besides, he's dead! What good does this news do for me? I still don't know where she is, where he left her body..."

"I know because he told me..." at the look on my face, she hastily added, "...before he disappeared."

My body shook, with cold, or shock, or relief, I wasn't sure. Perhaps it was more grief.

"That's it? That's just the end of twenty years of searching. Royce did it. That's fucking it?" I shouted.

I was so sure that there was...maybe even the slightest possibility that she was still alive. I mean, I had heard of teenage runaways, of young women breaking free from their families, their intended husbands, and living alone, even getting jobs.

It was a far cry, but the idea had driven me.

"Will, I left because I had an affair with Royce. I fell pregnant, and he sent me away before I could ruin his marriage to Miss Rosalie. He was a bad man...and I suppose...he got what he deserved..." her eyes looked distant, mournful.

"We both did." She uttered, looking down at her feet.

I lifted her chin with my forefinger and our lips met almost immediately. I breathed in deeply, her scent was intoxicating, her taste...

I didn't know if I should feel betrayed by Isabella, or grateful for her presence now. I was confused, but I was lonely. I was used to being alone, and I was starved for intimacy.

I grabbed her hand and led her back to my car, driving back to my hotel with a speed only attainable if faced with the potential of sex.

Her skin had absorbed the cold, but she didn't seem to mind. She followed me to my room. I unlocked the door and held it open for her. I turned back around to close and lock it. She jumped me then, parting her lips, inviting my tongue. I groaned at the reprieve she offered from the acrimonious life I lived.

I tore her coat off, and her sweater. She ran her finger down my chest as I shed my own coat. She pulled her gloves off, and her toed off her shoes. I followed suit, watching her with disbelief and...happiness.

I cupped her face, pulling her mouth back to mine. I sucked at her bottom lip, coaxing her mouth open again before I ran my tongue against hers. She moaned and whimpered as she ground her crotch against my erection.

I panted, gripping her ass with a fierce desire and hoisting her up against my body. As I held her up, she pulled her peach coloured blouse over her head. Her tweed skirt was hitched up around her hips. I could feel her moist centre through her panties as she leaned against my cock.

"Isabella," I whispered reverently. "I need this."

"Me, too." She moaned, unclasping her bra without any reluctance.

I carried her over to the bed, her back arching as I unzipped her skirt from the side, and slid it down her legs.

"I always thought you were beautiful when I was young," I said gruffly, eyeing her panties as I pulled them down from her waist.

I unbuckled my belt, pushing my slacks down my legs and pulling my sweater, my shirt and my undershirt over my head all at once.

I was almost too eager.

"I always thought you were handsome, too." She smiled wisely.

She sat up slightly so she could grip my cock in her hand, squeezing firmly as I grunted with pleasure. She stroked me, and the sight was so erotic, I almost came in her hand.

I leaned over her body, reaching her mouth before kissing a trail down her neck. I reached her breasts, and realised I hadn't had the opportunity to fully appreciate them. I cupped them in my hands, rubbing each nipple with my thumbs. I thrust my hips at every whimper and moan she made. I wasn't even inside her yet, and I was almost done already.

She threaded her fingers through my hair, controlling me, levelling me, releasing me with a power so enchanting, so compelling...

I took her nipple in my mouth, sucking and running my tongue around the areola. They were pink, and rosy, and delicious. I groaned as she threw a leg over my backside, begging me to enter her. I smiled against her skin, moving to the next breast and taking it in my mouth like the first as I let my hand whisper further down her stomach and into the patch of curly, damp hair. She cried out as I parted her lips with my fingers, feeling her slick moisture coat them as I began rubbing with abandon. I pressed her little nub and ran my finger around her creamy hole rhythmically as I sucked her nipples, flicking my tongue out to the underside of her breasts and revelling in the cool vibrations is sent through her body. I felt them transfer from her to me, shuddering through to my bones.

Her whimpers grew more desperate, higher in pitch.

"Please, William! Oh, God, yes, please!" she mewled.

I spread her legs wider, angling my hips against hers and watching her face, glorious and waiting before I stared down at her beauteous woman-hood, her skin bright pink and flushed with my activities.

I held my head right at her entrance, running the tip along her wetness just to hear her moan. But, I quickly forgot about prolonging this, and began to think selfishly, of bringing myself to come.

I pushed into her tight sex and groaned in ecstasy.

"Fuck me," I swore without apology.

I pulled out, then thrust back in, sliding my hands behind the small of her back and pulling her hips up slightly to make entrance easier. My cock slid in and out, and I watched as I disappeared inside her, the sound of skin and moisture mesmerised me like an unchained ballad of humanness. I cupped her breast with my right hand as she met my thrusts with her own.

She was keening, groaning, murmuring and moaning. I breathed in heavily through my teeth, holding on. She swore herself, and the sound was thrilling, and naughty.

Her dark hair was spread over the pillow, like an ink pot spilled over parchment. The beige and spearmint coloured curtains blocked out the world and my problems. I kept thrusting, and I could feel her start to tighten even more. She cried out.

"Yes, Will, yes, yes, oh..ah...ahh!"

I pulled her body upright, keeping my dick inside her before I turned around and lay flat on the bed, her straddling my lap and my already weeping cock.

"Fuck, Isabella, I—fuck—"

She started gyrating her hips around me, her moisture rubbing all over my lap and lower stomach. Her breasts bounced along with her movements, hypnotising me while her face remained passionate, yet serene. I grasped them, rubbing them and kneading them. Her hand travelled down to where our bodies were connected, gathering the substance on her fingers and rubbing it against her nipples as I watched, captivated.

She groaned and started that high wailing noise again, telling me she was close. I pulled her down to me as she kept thrusting her hips. She was wild, and uncontrollable. I felt this sharp sting in my lip.

I gasped unexpectedly.

"Ow!" I protested, feeling her clench tightly around me and, although distracted momentarily, feeling my cock empty inside of her.

She groaned and shivered against me, against my mouth. She kissed me again, before following a line down my neck, my throat, then just under my jaw, feeling the thundering pulse of my artery.

And then—

I screamed as her teeth sunk into me, fire exploded through my veins and I felt like I'd been thrown into hell, an incomplete life, no family and a dead sister to leave in my legacy.


	18. Condition

You guys are lucky I haven't been getting hours at work.

Essenza Del Lupo~

* * *

"Isabella...Isabella was a Vampire?" I exclaimed.

Was there anything sane in this world at all? Was there anyone that was never affected by these creatures?

Maybe. Just nobody I knew of.

I let my head fall into my dirt-smeared palms, the lines webbing my skin made a black and white map of lines and creases.

I touched the tips of my fingers to my lips, pondering William's story. Besides the fact that he'd been taken into this life, a stolen child, a lost identity; I was reeling at the fact that he'd spent most of his life trying to search for me.

"You shouldn't have done that," I admonished shakily.

"You think I could have lived any kind of existence outside of what I chose to do?" he challenged stubbornly.

I looked at him levelly, feeling tears prickle and fall, mimicking the moisture leaking from the roof, it stained my clothes and left a hollow, icy feeling in the pit of my stomach.

"You didn't try!"

He scoffed, his body sagging forward in defence.

"I owed it to you, don't you realise? I didn't get closure after your funeral. I resented Henry and Father for moving on without more knowledge of what happened that night."

I bit my lip, a hot trail falling vertically to the floor of tears.

"Well, Isabella told you that Royce tried to kill me..." I began.

"And after I was turned...I thought maybe you were alive. I'm sure Isabella knew more, but she disappeared before I could interrogate any answers from her."

"She just left you alone?" I asked, horrified.

He was turned against his will, by someone he once knew so closely, he wouldn't have understood the implications of such a transition, the consequences, nor the side effects.

And she just left him to work it out for himself? It's cruelty. At least, despite the fact I never wanted this life, I still had Carlisle, and a family...and Emmett.

And recently I had gained Jacob, and the idea of never having the opportunity to, pelted me with considerable pain. My time was slipping by in such quick succession, like the literal fall of sand through an hour glass, it won't be long before the last grain drops, and I'm lost forever.

I intend to get out of here, or die. Never will I accept defeat under the guise of intimidation in an Armani suit. Aro doesn't scare me; that is the honest truth. Jacob frightens me. Jacob Black has the power to hurt me more than any omniscient Vampiric tyrant with a millennia of existence under his belt.

"Isabella was remorseful. She never planned to change me. It was an accident..." he took a breath out of habit. "...I don't begrudge her mistake. If anything, it led me to you. I should be thanking her. That is, if she is even alive now," he mused.

"She exposed herself. In more than one way," I commented sardonically. "But, I can't see her being corporally punished. It was impossible for the Volturi to find out unless Royce told them. Which, on the other hand, would be hard to put past him."

I lifted my knees up to my chest, wrapping my arms around them.

I was covered in filth. Ignoring my discomfort, I continued.

"Did you keep in contact with Father and Henry after you were changed?"

William looked weary.

"Yes, for a while, but also very little. But...it was only Henry to keep in contact with by that point." He explained softly, raising his eyes slightly to catch my reaction.

"So...father died? What happened?" Why did the news come as a surprise?

"I thought you would know." He whispered, a tinge of disappointment saturated his tone.

"I thought maybe, you would have kept track of us...even if you never made contact again."

His words were almost accusatory. I didn't blame him, either.

"My memory was very vague for a while, you must know; I was thrown to the brink of death before I was turned. You were just turned, when you were healthy, intact. When I recovered most of my memory, almost a decade had passed. I wasn't sure if I had the right to know, let alone the ability. I was still a newborn, and my behaviour was volatile..."

He just looked at me.

"But I know that's not an excuse. I guess I was just afraid." I shrugged, feeling pathetic and cowardice, a snivelling excuse for a human, or half-human...whatever the fuck I was, or was becoming.

"Dad died of a heart attack...1949, actually. Henry was only ten years later. Pneumonia. I wasn't even there for him. He had kids, though, you know," William smiled at that last part, a little wistfully.

"I only ever wanted children." I murmured.

I wasn't even sure he heard me.

"He had three daughters would you guess," he chuckled affectionately.

I saw the plain regret in his smile, the sad edge of his words told me he wished he'd had kids, too.

The idea of Henry being a father wasn't that peculiar to me. He already acted like a father when I was still human.

"So the Hale line died out, I'm presuming?"

He shook his head and my eyes bulged out.

"Well, the name, but not the blood. We're still around, you know. Two of his daughters are still alive, actually, have children of their own and so-on. As far as I've kept track."

Another question was eating at my curiosity like a parasite.

"So, how did you get involved with the Volturi? How did you get caught? And...how long have you been down here?"

His eyes seemed to glaze over, his face became distant, and it was almost easy to mistake him for a granite statue, a shining reflection of the indestructible creature he was. And yet, as I watched him now, he seemed more vulnerable than any human, less resilient than even me.

"I don't know how long." He answered, his mind elsewhere.

"But I had tried to bargain with the Volturi. I was...I had been campaigning with the _branco di lupi_ in the North. I had—"

"I'm sorry, the what?"

"The _branco di lupi._ Um, the pack of wolves? Up in the North. I was appealing for their alliance, so i could use their help trying to scout Europe. I thought, what better place to gather troops than the holy land; the mother of all Vampire hierarchies. Italy."

"There are _wolves_ here?" I rose onto my knees in shock and excitement, overlooking the fact that he was bent on searching the entire world for me.

"Sure, where do you think the myth came from? They originated from here, you know. The whole "curse", the wolf-human hybrid...it came from this country. Didn't you ever study history, Rose?" he asked, slightly exasperated.

I was enraptured with it, so I was barely able to speak to encourage him to continue, or admonish him for being a smartass.

"The story of how Ancient Rome was discovered. Remus and Romulus? They were abandoned by their divine parents, and found by a she-wolf who nursed and cared for them. She became a symbol, still widely known, but rarely acknowledged as fact. It's where the essence of their mutation came from, the _essenza del lupo_, transmitted through their blood from that first deity, into thousands of descendants."

I slumped back down into a sitting position.

"You got a wolf to tell you all of that?" I asked sceptically.

"I'm persuasive, I guess." He wiggled his eyebrows, and it inexplicably planted an idea in my head.

"Is that your power?"

He frowned.

"I don't have a power...How about you?"

I laughed humourlessly.

"Well, apart from losing my Vampirism and a bizarre case of impending mortality...about diddly squat."

William's eyes widened.

"What?"

I sighed.

"I still don't know what's happening, to what extent this power, this...illness will go. But...I'm weaker than I used to be. I...I can feel a lot more physical pain. I can cry. I can bleed."

I lifted my shirt to show him the healing wounds, the dried blood that still clung to my skin like a crimson jacket. His eyes darted over me, swallowing hard.

"Can you die?" his voice echoed eerily.

I feared my silence was the answer for us both. I laughed hoarsely, trying to lighten the tension in the air.

"Wait, so, that's it?" I asked, puzzled. "They threw you in here because you wanted to be-friend a bunch of wolves?"

He shook his head.

"No, although that was a large part of their reasoning," he straightened his back. "Apparently, they've been feuding with them over rights to hunt. The pack have been lenient, ignoring their eating habits for centuries...but one of the guard killed a pup, and the shit hit the fan. They wouldn't listen when I asked them to limit their hunting for a while, until I could mediate with the pack. So, I kidnapped one of their humans."

My eyebrows shot up.

"A little rebellious, don't you think?" I quipped.

He shrugged it off as if he had shoplifted a piece of candy and not abducted an actual human being. I don't know where this sudden sympathy for the human race came from; in the past, I had had a certain disregard for their existence.

"Did you give them back?"

He looked sheepish.

"No, I set them free."

"Sounds like your talking about an animal testing lab, here. You set them free? Are you sure they got away?"

He bit his lip and ran a hand through his mussed hair.

"Almost positive. I didn't have long after that before I was caught, though. Usually humans are disposable, and they would have just found another one off the street to sate them, but it was a matter of principle, and as Aro said, a crime against "the crown"." He lifted his hands to make air quotations before rolling his eyes exaggeratedly.

"'The Crown'?" I scoffed, chuckling. "What kind of overcompensation is that? Does he think that if he calls it that, it'll actually come true? Fucking hell." I rubbed my eyes with the backs of my hands.

I was laughing and shaking my head, the whole situation quickly sinking poisonous talons of despair into my skin. I was losing it, and I realised it when my body began to tremor with my sobs.

"I'm sorry, William. I wish I could do something." I choked.

"Rose, I'm just...elated...there are no words to describe the...feelings I have right now, I mean...I was right all along. All this time, I was fucking right, and I'd hate to tell Father I told him so, but...well, I can't."

I lifted my eyes to him, narrowed.

"Was that supposed to be funny?"

His lips were pressed together, his eyes darkly jovial.

"I'm sorry, I laugh at inappropriate times. It's a real problem. Sorry. I'll shut up, but seriously. I _found you!_ In the least likely of places. It's like you came to me. Decades of searching are finally worth it."

I sniffed, dabbing under my eyes with the pad of my thumb.

"Well your happiness will be kind of short-lived, 'cause I don't know if you noticed, but...we're in a dungeon."

He looked around, as if noticing for the first time.

"Are you sure you don't have a power, because invisibility or transfiguration would be kind of handy right now." I say bitterly.

"Well, I don't see you having_ laser_ vision or anything," he rebuked.

I chewed on my lip.

"Did I ever say thank you?" I asked suddenly, my voice small.

"Thank you for what?"

"For wasting your life, for not living, for..." I took a deep breath and let it out heavily "...for...for defying the Volturi, for stealing a human...for, for making friends with wolves...I-"

"You're welcome."

I smiled at him, the shadows cloaking his pale limbs.

"It seems we both have a sympathy for the wolf persuasion." I pursed my lips.

"What do you mean?" he questioned, a cautious undertone.

"I'm in love with one."

My head spun suddenly, it felt like I was being pulled through a current of wind and electricity. I was being thrashed around and shoved, a violent nightmare. Until I was overcome with clarity, the dungeons now the familiar forest of the Olympic Range, back in Washington. Possibly closer to the Canadian border.

_His attention was peaked, like he'd heard something in the distance, a strange noise, or whisper of air...a hollow, churning murmur. He shook his head slowly, turning back to face the Cullens._

_They were converged in a circle, backs rigid and eyes shifting around the clearing._

"_I saw her," Alice said sharply, glancing at everyone. "Like an apparition, a ghost—"_

"_She's not _dead_!" Jacob protested, his eyes wild and furious._

"_I'm not saying she is—"_

"_Then, don't say it!" he shouted._

_He was falling apart, his last ounce of sanity ripping free from the rest of his mind, like a crumbling landscape._

_Jasper face adopted a weird expression, and the situation relaxed slightly. Jacob huffed, turning around and gripping his hair tightly with his fingers. The others continued talking._

_Edward disengaged from the group, much to Bella's discomfort, before walking slowly over to Jacob._

"_Jake, just—" he placed his hand on Jacob's shoulder and his body seemed seize._

"_Edward!" Bella yelled, frightened. _

_She darted over to him, taking his hand in hers. He snatched his hand back from Jacob, who remained lost._

_Edward stared at Jake, disturbed._

"_Royce." He whispered, widened eyes and an open mouth._

"_What?" Carlisle snapped, very uncharacteristically._

_He shoved towards his son, placing a paternal hand on his cheek._

"_Say that again." He ordered firmly._

_Edward's eyes moved from his father's to stare into Bella's. They softened, and he blinked, seeming to come back to reality._

"_Royce. Rosalie's fiancée when she was still human. He's not dead. You remember Rochester, of course?" he turned back to Carlisle desperately._

_Carlisle nodded vehemently._

"_You're not saying he's—"_

"_Vampire." Jacob provided lowly._

_Edward shot him a look of intense sympathy. He looked back down at Bella, and must have realised how he'd been in a very similar situation with his own mate._

_Carlisle looked impossibly paler. Esme was covering her mouth with her hands while Jasper had his arm around Alice's shoulders, his fingers tapping against her arm._

"_If he'd wanted to kill her, he would have done it in front of Jacob." Carlisle said, trying to reassure everybody._

_His words made Jacob cringe._

"_He said he and Victoria worked for the same power..." he added, clenching his fists at his sides, pacing._

"_It has to be the Volturi," Jasper concluded. "What other power is there appealing enough for Victoria to want to work for?"_

"_But, what's in it for the Volturi?" Esme asked._

"_Our destruction." Carlisle answered, his eyes shining with morbid realisation. "Victoria would kill Bella, and the newborns would finish the rest of us off."_

My body jolted uncomfortably. I felt like I'd been dropped on the ground in the clearing.

"_I know Aro wanted Alice and I to join him, but he knows we never would if our family was still alive. They would have offered Victoria leniency in exchange for our extermination." Edward went on, much to Bella's unease and dread._

_She swayed on the spot, gripping Edward tightly._

"_And, Royce was already working for them. Victoria would have found out about Rose's condition and delegated back to them. Royce would have found out, and intervened." Edward finished._

_Jacob was standing off to the side, his body shuddering and rigid as he craned his neck to stare at the sky. The mass of darkest blue, dotted with the illumination of stars, planets bent between suns and moons._

"_So, we have to go to Italy." Jake declared, his tone unwavering._

"_We can't just _go_ to Italy—"_ _Edward tried to reason, much to Jake's contempt._

"_Listen, asshole, I'm not asking you to come on vacation," the others tried to cut across him, mostly in disagreement, but his voice was louder and stronger. "I'm not even asking, I'm telling you. I know what I have to do. You can either sit back, or you can help me. But don't you go and tell me it's stupid, or it's not going to work, because what if it was Bella over there?" he raised a finger to point at her._

_Edward's arm tightened around her while she looked up at him worriedly._

_Jacob looked around at Esme._

"_What if it was your wife, Carlisle? Would you honestly be arguing with your family, making rational decisions? NO! You would be _out_ there, on a fucking plane already, doing everything you fucking could to get her back—wouldn't you?" he had approached Carlisle, staring him down._

_Carlisle's face remained passive, but they all began to realise. Jacob wasn't bargaining._

"_Have you informed the pack?" Carlisle asked gently, professionally._

_Jacob seemed to weigh his answer._

"_And, what if I have?"_

"_We'll need all the help we can get, I just don't know how well we could do trying to get them to help free a Vampire from the mother land of all Vampires." Carlisle explained._

"_I imprinted on her. The pack is obligated. They don't have a choice." He turned his back to the rest of the Cullens, staring out into the distance._

"_Good—"_

_Alice gasped, her eyes going blank._

_The Cullens froze, and Jake stiffened._

"_She's back—" she started, before the screaming began._

_There was nowhere to look. Vampires attacking from all angles, a white mass of granite hands and stone strength._

_Esme screamed._

"_No!"_

My body fell slack against the floor of my cell, my breathing laboured and shallow. The air above me swirled in shades of black, and a pressure was building in my ears, I couldn't hear a thing. The moon sung an elegy of light, a begging return, a pleading incandescent sphere or mourning.

A shadow appeared above me, the distant clang of chains. A scream, two screams, three—

"_Edward!" Bella cried, as he was thrown down by two newborns, caught off guard._

_There must have been twenty or so; they were ambushed. They weren't prepared._

"Fight!" My body roared to them, as if they could hear me.

_Jasper was occupied with three newborns while Alice was being chased, her face distraught. Esme was efficient as she destroyed two of them, before running over to help Edward. Jacob had phased, and was on his own mission, finding Victoria._

_Bella was cornered by a middle-aged man, ragged and fierce. Her scream was ear-splitting, it felt like an icy breeze whispering through your bones, making your insides quiver with shocking terror._

_He was knocked aside by Jacob's hulking, furry form, before she disappeared entirely. Victoria's formidable red hair shone out like a beacon warning of vindictive seas. The demon held my brother's girl, and his face showed the haunting look of fear before that moment..._

_Edward is fast..._

_Victoria is faster..._

I felt a snap, as if it was my own neck.

I was thrown back into reality, my head clear with the knowledge that Bella was dead, my brother was as good as the same, and it was all on my shoulders. I shook with the thought of losing a sister before I gained one. I tried to lose myself in them again, but my mind refused to let go. I was going into shock, and William was calling my name, trying to rouse me from my stupor.

What have I lost, what have I made them lose?

~0~

I kept fading in and out of my own consciousness. I was lost in the abyss of my own guilt, my own thoughts, my own nightmares. I'd hate to know the terror of my brother's, or my family's. I deserved it, though.

William stayed still, but never silent. When I was semi-coherent, he would speak to me, and I would make gestures of acknowledgment.

Until the next day, when they came down to retrieve me.

Felix and Demetri ghosted down the steps, no sound left in their wake, large silhouettes of the damned. I didn't want to move. The dead moved for no-one, not the air or the earth, or the grievance of the living. Ultimately, I should act as if I was already buried.

"It is time. Aro wishes to speak with you again." Felix informed me.

I stared, side-long at the wall, and the toe of his boot, the Volturi crest engraved on a shiny, gold medallion stuck to the leather.

Demetri nudged me with his shoe, causing William to snarl at him.

"Leave her alone, you son of a bitch! Get your fucking prince to come down here and do his own dirty work, you fucking pieces of shit!" he roared.

I made a move to get up, but Felix yanked me into a standing position anyway, dislocating my shoulder and pulling a lengthy shriek out of me.

"Don't touch her!" William screamed desperately.

He was my little brother again.

The bad man was here to take his sister away.

"Silence!" Demetri thundered.

I didn't struggle, but they made a show of trying to drag me away. They did it for William. Aro must have already made the connection of our relationship; I wonder if he let the guards know. I wondered if he'd use it to his advantage, to make us both suffer.

The exploitation of people's weaknesses, of their relationships; that's what the powerful does best, for they know no compassion. It's the destruction that drives them.

"LET HER GO!" William bellowed, his hand reaching through the bars of his small prison.

The fear.

I looked back to see his palm raised, a glow radiating from the centre. I tried to hide my shock. A shock wave rippled through my body, making both Felix and Demetri stumble awkwardly.

The heat was tremendous, and it felt as if I was burning from the inside out. I looked back again, as William's hand gripped a bar of his cell hastily, the current of pressure dissolved.

"Sorry," I said sheepishly. "I didn't mean to do that. Have mercy!" I begged, feigning remorse.

They both looked at each other, annoyed, and a slightly unsettled. But they bought it.

With a scant idea of how that happened, I glanced back once more in time to see a burst of light disappear between his fingers and a chunk of iron bar disintegrating into a pile of dust in his palm.


	19. Infiltration

Yah, I know, it's unbelievably late. But no matter how late these updates get, they won't stop until I'm finished.

Love Will Tear Us Apart- (Cover) Honeyroot.

Essenza Del Lupo~

* * *

Demetri and Felix were punctual; dragging my limp body up into the court chambers where Aro was waiting for my company. I was reluctant, I was desperate to buy some time. Once Aro touched me, both myself and William were guaranteed a death sentence, or something close to it. I definitely knew William wouldn't be spared, or at the least, he'd be moved away, somewhere remote, untraceable. We'd be separated, and any threat (which included my family) would be destroyed. I knew Aro wouldn't leave any chance for my escape, or William's. I guess he finally understood the dynamics of a family; of the uncompromising, unspoken promise shared among us all. We would die for each other. William had already "died" for my cause.

I wasn't prepared to lose him again.

My heart thundered with anticipation, my head throbbed, my ears ringing.

The walls of the corridor seemed to close in on me, the space narrowing as if I was being suffocated with stone. I started hyperventilating, the Volturi guards oblivious to my panic attack. The world was collapsing on top of me. I couldn't breathe.

"No, I won't go to him!" I protested insanely.

They ignored me, of course, their combined grip bruising me, printing a lasting stamp of corrupted power on my pale flesh. They may as well have been beating me with sticks and branding me with a cattle iron. I was a symbol of shadowed, disobedient society.

I was a commodity. I was an asset, and a threat rolled into a compromised, weakening shell of skin, bones and blue eyes. My heartbeat was fluttering in my ears like an insect, bounding off the inside of my skull.

I couldn't let him touch me. If I did, everything was over. Why was he summoning me, anyway? Was he planning to get me to track someone? I wouldn't do it, I couldn't. But I can, and I have no choice, not when he can read thoughts, not when I can't control a damn thing about this power.

Ironic, that I should obtain it when I'm at my weakest state.

I hated my tainted body, I hate the dark grace with which I was made this way. I hated the feeling of drowning in this life, and of losing control. I hated being dragged unwillingly to be abused by an evil Vampire overlord. I hated being vulnerable, like my head was being held underwater, my screams unheard, echoes and splashes, muted in the mist.

I was shaking with tremors, my body slack with defeat my mind already knew but refused to bend to. I was so tired to even bother fighting, but I knew it was either fight, or lose. I owed William more than that. I owed my family more than that. I owed Jacob more than anything.

I felt an intense pressure inside my head, a hiss of air, a sharp pain behind my eyes, a slick slither of thoughts and images, a cold undertow of a different reality.

I was slipping back to my family, and if I lost myself now, I'd unintentionally betray their plans.

That is, if they were still alive.

My chest was splitting with the possibility that my family was already dead.

What life, if any, would I return to, if I actually got out of this place?

_Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself_, I think, as I'm thrown to Aro's feet, the entire Volturi guard backed against the walls.

I raise my head, he approaches. I stumble backwards on my hands and knees, blood dewing on the cold stone floor, my palms scraped and dirty.

"Rosalie, dear, I'd like you to meet my…business consort." Aro speaks amicably.

I lift myself into a defensive position, eyes rotating the room to find this 'consort' of his. A woman appears from behind the guards.

"Isabella." I blurt out, my eyes seeking a gift of reality in this surreal madness.

She looks the same.

She looks different.

She _is_ Isabella. But…she looks of death.

Her eyes pierce mine, her lips parting partially as she lowers herself to her knees in front of me. I stared straight back at her, inside her, into whatever entity lies inside her.

I beseech to her humanity, watch her with fearful, pleading eyes.

Does she remember what compassion is?

"Rosalie Hale." She says, her eyes devoid of the mercy I thought they would exude.

A pitiful glaze swept over her bloody stare.

"We finally meet again."

I remain silent, and wonder how she became this way. The way William described her, made her sound like a merciful beast, a somewhat soft Vampire.

She was dressed in a slick, business-like dress, and trench coat. Black and red, ash and blood. She curled a manicured finger under my dirt-smudged chin, as if she was inspecting my face of blemishes.

I hissed at her, rearing backwards to escape her grip.

"You're not this person, Isabella," I pant as she straightens up.

Aro is watching our exchange intently, as if observing a science experiment between two primates. Cruel bastard; he knows our past together. He knows how to manipulate, how to crack. He knows how to make me lose myself.

Suddenly, there was a shift in the atmosphere of the room. I could, simultaneously, feel myself slipping back to my family again. I had staved off the mind slip before, but I couldn't feel my body anymore, my eyes seeking light in the sudden darkness between these two places I travelled.

But I didn't understand, I was still in Italy.

I was disoriented, feeling like I'd skipped escaping, and had already made it outside into the main street of Volterra, when I realised.

"No!" I screamed, a large hoard of wolves sprinting through the ancient arches and alleys of the city.

Their coats glistened in the midnight. The pack was never this big; these numbers were inconceivable. There were dozens.

I was still drawn to Jacob, his russet fur standing out at the apex of the group, the lead, the authority.

I was separate from my body, like a soul, a ghost. I tried to raise my hands to my face, my vision hazed with a wisp of white fog; looking down at myself, I saw nothing of a body, a form, a figure. A cloud of curved dust floating onward in the wind, following the aimless hero into the devil's living room.

He was looking for me, he was sniffing the air, taking sharp turns. He found the manhole, phasing back into human form. It shocked me. He was vulnerable for a moment until he slipped through the gap with ease, dropping onto paws instead of feet, his claws clicking against the moist stone, his pack following without hesitation. The wolves were infiltrating the Volturi coven, they were literally staking out a Vampire nest for the purpose of saving one.

I was touched, and overwhelmed.

I felt a vacuum of air, my mind hooked back into my physical form with sharp tingles of spontaneity. I gasped, my back arching off the icy ground as Aro's hand closed around my neck. He must have been watching.

"Yes, your family will pay dearly," he smiled, his mouth slightly askew with shock and concern.

He was being ambushed, and he wasn't entirely ready.

But, I could have lost the pack's one possible advantage: surprise.

He lifted me up from the ground, my feet swinging helplessly as he strangled the suddenly precious air from my lungs.

Isabella watched me from over Aro's shoulder, the guard was tensing, the news already having been announced. Most of them were leaving the room to defend the rest of the coven, while Aro, Marcus, Caius, and Isabella remained in the turret. As they filed out, a loud succession of howls and barks issued from down the cobblestone way.

Then came the screams.

For once…I saw fear in Aro's eyes.

"Call them off!" He shouted into my face, his voice a slab of rock against glass.

"Call the wolves off now! I know they came for you! Call them off before I destroy the Cullens; destroy your brother and his precious gift!" he snarled.

My eyes were watering, my hands scratching uselessly at his marble grip as the sounds grew louder, the commotion re-entering the room as the fight poured through the doors, wolves trampling Vampires and ancient sculptures.

The movement was blinding, Aro had moved us to the other side of the room, releasing me onto my feet but placing one hand on either side of my face from behind, pushing on my shoulder with his forearm, forcing me onto my knees.

A wolf skids to the fore, his legs buckling underneath him as he grinds to a halt in front of us, his eyes are soulfully pained, blended deep brown, underpinned shame, selfless love; Jacob's eyes.

I couldn't speak.

A second; it's like all my life contained was just one second, that moment when nobody moved.

The noise paused, our actions slowed and the wind whistled a song.

And then everything sped up, Jacob was thrown to the side by Demetri, a grey wolf I recognised as Leah intercepted, and was crushed by a small female Vampire, and Felix. I screamed as Aro's grip tightened on my face.

The door was set ablaze. The room was mayhem, a war portrait of beasts and demons.

Screeches ensued as a sheer ray of pure white light shone through the space, and a path was made in between the fighting monsters for the singular, pale William.

Aro yelled in pain, unable to comprehend being overpowered, and by a lowly 'younger-than-a-century' Vampire.

I fell forward, my hands grinding skin onto the rough surface of the floor, rolling to avoid hitting my face before being hoisted up by William, his still glowing hands burning into my skin. The wolves created a buffer circle between me and the rest of the Volturi guard; some were instantly over to aid Aro, his face seared black. I imagined he was still alive…and pissed off.

Wolf-Jacob appeared behind me, his attack lodged at William who had a sturdy grip on my waist, my arm thrown weakly around his neck.

"He's my brother!" I shouted in the chaos, unheard, unnoticed by anyone but my wolf.

His hackles were raised cynically, his muzzle bloodied with the life of the fallen. William picked me up into his arms, and we started running.

"We can't leave them all behind! What they've done for us—"

"They made their decision." He said coldly. "I made ours."

Something hit us from the side as we entered the lobby. I slid on my back across the carpeted floor, a blast of heat issuing from where I had once stood, where William fought now with two guards. Their bodies were glowing, as I watched, they started to crumble, as if they consisted of nothing more than paper and dust, William's hands shaking with the strength his ministrations required.

He needed to feed, and using his power was making him weaker.

Wolf-Jacob caught up to us, a myriad of disciples crowded behind him as we completed our escape. Our footsteps thundered over the ground, roaring freedom and fearful sorrow.

The wolves dispersed into the outer sewers, William and I took the lead towards the man hole to climb out; this was the only escape we knew of.

Deafening growls followed us up to the surface, naked men rising out of the ground behind us before re-entering their animal forms. I waited for Jacob, fifth to appear human again as he pulled himself up onto the street.

Our eyes met.

"Jake—"

"Go! Now! What are you waiting for?" he roared at William and me.

He lost himself to the wolves then, his body stretching and flexing with his second form.

I was coaxed forward until we reached a running pace again, the stars unencumbered by clouds in the sky tonight. A full moon hung heavy in the distant space; the dark swallowed us whole as we fled the city, lost to the monsters who stalked us.

Most of the pack had dissolved into the fading night while Jacob, and what I presumed was the rest of the Quileute pack, caught up with William and I. We'd reached the outskirts of Pisa, barrelling further, hours later, our destination rose before us. Rome.

* * *

I wasn't naïve to think The Volturi had simply not enough resources, or guards to chase after us. He wanted to let us go. After we'd fled the city, and the neighbouring towns, he had probably made the decision to cease any hunt. Given his goal to destroy the strongest Vampire covens around the world to prevent a power struggle; he was going to let me reconvene with my family. I was playing messenger; to deliver the news that the Cullens were next.

I had missed the decision between my family and the pack for Jacob to fly to Italy and infiltrate the Volturi coven. Once we reached the outskirts of the city, Jacob broke from the group, leaving me and William to wait awkwardly with the rest of the pack. I ashamedly counted less numbers than I knew there to be in the pack before now. Hiding behind the messy shrubbery next to a small street of restaurants, the wolves around me began phasing. I looked away out of respect as their bodies returned to normal. William, on the other hand, seemed fascinated. His head cocked to the side then, his eyes darkening. A small woman, probably in her late sixties was walking past, eyes cast forward, a scarf wrapped around her head and a shawl around her shoulders. I saw the look in his eye, the warped hunger from a thousand days of no blood. It was a miracle he was still standing here, not terrorising a town, bloodying the streets with his morbid thirst.

But he was teetering, and I knew what he was about to do.

I snatched his hand and placed it between my own, bringing him back, reigning in that uncontrollable need to feed. The hunger is an entity, like an outside pull, the thirst gestating into a monstrous second face.

William was losing himself to it. And there was no way I could stop it. Not with my own weakened condition.

He slipped from my grasp.

Appearing from the street, Jacob dropped what he had been carrying and thrust his hands into my brother's chest, breaking him from the trance the aroma of blood created. Jake was dressed in shorts and a black t-shirt. He bent down to pick up a bulging garbage bag from the ground, throwing it to the naked bodies grouped behind me. They clawed at it like food scraps; retrieving items of clothing from within.

Jacob's eyes were zoomed in on me.

There was an unspoken roar of words between us, a macabre flow of fear and uncertainty as he took steps closer. William growled.

"It's okay!" I hissed at my brother, waving my hand, never breaking eye contact with Jacob.

I reached out for Jake's forearm and he pulled me into his arms roughly. Warmth ignited between us, flames engulfing, pulling, tugging, binding us in a silent chorus once more. What delight to be held in his embrace again, the cold distance no longer abrasive against my sensitive flesh.

I breathed him.

I felt his breath exhale shakily into my neck as he tightened his arms around me, the imperceptible shift of relief in his muscles; yet it made him no less tense.

We were still in Italy and we still had a chance of being caught.

But our demons waited; a kiss I stole.

Once our lips found each other, It was like a resounding crack shuddered through the universe and silence was immediate. I wasn't sure if it was out of courtesy, or disgust for the rest of the pack. It hardly mattered to me.

I tasted freedom on his mouth before I tasted tears. Tracks of salt and despair were creeping down his face as I let us part for just a moment.

"I thought," his voice broke and his lips curled in frustration.

"I know." I whispered easily.

It was bizarre how blasé I could act, especially given our circumstances. A bigger part of me was worried about Jacob's sanity than being consumed by my mortal, emotional overwhelming.

With Jacob safe and my brother here; I could be strong for both of them.

I took his golden, dirtied hands and held them against my dirtied face.

"I'm here."

"But only just." He shook his head, his eyes glistening with vulnerability. "I'm supposed to be there the whole time. I shouldn't have—I almost lost you-almost—I can't-I don't know…I'm responsible for you now—this is my fault—" he was stammering.

"_None_ of this is your fault. Okay? I chose this. I chose you. And I chose to fight on my own because I'm responsible for _you, _too. What you've done for me, what you've forced yourself to give up just to save a…a _Vampire_—"

"_Don't_." he grumbled lowly, and I could see him struggle with his pain, and his anger.

He looked at the ground for a moment, eyes narrowed, his Adam's apple bobbing down his throat.

"Jake—"

"_Don't_. _Don't underestimate me._" He muttered harshly. "And don't think I'm not smart enough to know what I've chosen, either. I don't fucking care who or what you are, Rosalie. _Do not_ underestimate me, either." His hands were gripping my arms firmly, steadily.

I simple nodded.

His eyes were switching between my face, and the ground as he kept me at arm's length.

"Okay," I whispered, and for the first time, I looked around and tried to absorb my surroundings.

Jacob let go of me, walking to his pack for what I assumed would be a pep talk, but instead, he returned with some clothes in his hands. I glanced at them, then at the group of restless teen wolves around me. William was standing awkwardly off to the side.

I turned around on the spot, facing a thick line of trees, away from the street. The trees and shrubs were enough to cloak us for now, when the sun was still tucked behind the buildings.

I pulled my shirt off first and threw it onto the ground, immediately after, I felt body heat close behind me. Looking over my naked shoulder, Jacob was staring at me intently, obviously being chivalrous by shielding my body from the spectators. I was thankful. But I doubted I could feel any more violated than I already did. With having no thoughts to myself when Aro stole them with a touch, or when I had no escape from my past when Royce reminded me with his slick eyes, I felt my skin crawl with dreaded humiliation and disgust.

His warm hand against my neck secured me as I pulled the clean t-shirt over my head, topping it with a plain grey jacket.

"Where did you get all the clothes from?" I asked absently.

"Rosalie." Jake murmured softly, pulling my attention to his eyes.

His brow was knitted together, a tragic, lost sadness tinged his expression and the fall of his mouth.

"I know what happened. I know how you were changed. I know what happened before Carlisle found you."

"Old wounds, Jacob." I dismissed, looking away at a pair of doves clinging gracefully to a power line above the trees.

Old wounds.

"Maybe," he digressed softly. "But 'old', doesn't mean 'healed'." He swallowed thickly. "I never said sorry…for what happened to you."

I stared up at him in wonder, his face blurring through the film of tears.

"It was a long time ago." I said weakly.

"I know." He said, still watching me closely.

"But…I've never had anyone say sorry. Nobody who has had the same thing happen to them have ever wanted _pity_…I never wanted to seem _weak_," I muttered, laughing humourlessly at the irony.

"I just wanted to know it wasn't my fault. I don't want to blame myself anymore. I don't want to have this perpetual 'victim' status." I breathed out.

He leaned down to hug me.

Whispering into my hair, "It was never _your_ fault."

I closed my eyes.

* * *

_Leah Clearwater._

"What are you gonna tell her family?" I asked solemnly as the pack, William, and I pushed through the throngs of fatigued travellers at Sea-Tac airport.

I thought the pack had seemed lacking, it didn't occur to me that they'd lost one of their own. The selfish thought had me reeling.

Jacob sighed, his shoulders hunching low. Too much weight, too much death in his eyes, squeezing his soul black and blue.

"I don't know," he answered flatly, eyes distant.

"She wouldn't have died if you hadn't have come—"

He silenced me with a look.

"I told them all that they had a choice. I didn't force anyone to come. If nobody did, then I'd die trying." He shrugged.

A deep chime of sentiment turned my heart over in my chest.

I was touched, and all the more ashamed. So, she died for me, ultimately.

"Where's William?" I asked suddenly, not feeling his presence beside me anymore.

Jacob nodded at the pack as we breezed through the baggage claim, plucking a few odd, shabby duffle bags that we'd filled with the left-over clothes from Italy.

"He—" I looked around, antsy.

"He was right—"

"There." Jacob said, pointing outside where William was standing in the rain next to the taxi bay, holding his hands out to the breeze, his clothes getting soaked in the downpour.

This shattered soul had saved me and my wolf, and possibly many more of the wolves that escaped. To have a power triggered so late in his immortality...well, I understood how that felt. But, his had proven undeniably useful. His hands, capable of great gentleness, could create such destruction, like a miniature hand of God.

I had forgotten how peculiar it would be, becoming exposed to the outside world again, having spent too long in the dark. The grey, washy landscape was dull and familiar; yet, I was so relieved to be here that it almost hurt.

Jacob grabbed my hand, and we walked briskly to catch up with him. As we ran to my brother, I thought about my family.

I hadn't raised the subject of my family to Jacob yet. The only thing he'd mentioned about them, is that Carlisle had helped him sort out his trip to Italy with his pack, as well as arrange for security personnel to overlook their suspicious lack of luggage and identification. Obviously my father had powerful connections if he was able to influence Border Security. I couldn't bring myself to ask about Edward or Bella. That pain would eat me up soon enough, for now I was in a small pocket of selfish relief.

Reaching William, I grabbed his shoulder, a pair of red eyes landing on me. I gasped without thinking.

"Will—"

"I couldn't stop." His voice was hollow.

Jacob put his arm around me, holding me upright.

"There's nothing we can do about it now." He said grudgingly, hailing a cab for us.


	20. Clean

Holy crepe, it's been too long since I've updated. It's almost one in the morning, but damn it, I owe it to you guys.

Essenza Del Lupo~

* * *

William refused to look at me. I'd always known he had a penchant for being a martyr. He wouldn't let us touch him. He sat, cocooned in silence. I was right next to him, our arms touching in the cab, but he was as far away from me as if he was still lying in that dungeon in Volterra.

I stared down at my hands, curled in my lap. My knuckles were bloody and grazed. They were hands of the defeated. Why did I feel so cold?

My nerves were exposed and frayed, as if my skin was only a paper thin layer of defence. Jacob's skin was a fiery torch inside the small space of the taxi. Rain smoothed the surface of the roads, shiny reflections of the ashen sky above; Jacob looked pale as he watched me turn to face him. I felt his eyes burning my skin, a swelling knowledge to his attention.

I placed my battered white hand in his warm palm; a torn lily fallen on darkened embers.

His fingers circled my hand, squeezing tight. I had a feeling he'd be difficult to let go of.

I kept my eyes on the road, the cabbie's hair flicked out at odd angles, his presence barely noticeable.

Home felt so far away.

* * *

I speculated over what I would say to my family. What I would tell them about Volterra. What I would ask them to do. Could I even ask them to fight for me? No. I lost my right to ask them. I doubt I even had it in the first place. No, I could ask them to fight for themselves.

I loved them; that fact alone put a bullseye on their heads. Aro was the coldest of creatures. A threat was a threat; the Cullens were a threat. I believe the only reason he hadn't approached us before, was because he was hoping Alice and Edward would join the Volturi coven. Despite the inexplicable unlikeliness of that happening, Aro still held irrational hope for the idea. Then he found me.

And I became the priority.

Now, it didn't matter if Edward and Alice were powerful vampiric commodities with their telepathy and precognitive abilities; they were obstacles to get through to reach me. Collateral, and nothing more.

The journey seemed quick; it must have been the icy dread that churned inside me. Time always went too fast when you wished for more; it was a stubborn, spiteful reverse of fate.

Wind carried dry leaves up the gravel driveway. We had to take stops and switch buses to get home. I almost fell to my knees as I heard the grey stones crunch under my feet. A wail of despondence under the weight of my sole. I shivered, Jacob and William trailing dutifully behind me. They must have felt the need to let me go first, being it was my house, my life, my mess that I was returning to take the blame for.

My semi-mortal heart fluttered frantically, my soul begged for escape outside of this fleshy cage of destructive emotion.

I wound my fingers in my hair, feeling the grit that was still settled in it. I dropped my hand and sluggishly made my way up the front steps. My limbs were weak and battered. I was malnourished. I hadn't eaten anything; no blood, no food. I wasn't sure what I could actually eat.

I was stuck in this abstract swirl of false humanity. I didn't know if I was dead or alive. But by the time I reached the door, and pushed it open, I had a feeling I'd want to be the former.

Guilt trickled inside my stomach like a freezing poison; my skin blushed with the white heat of despair.

Regret laced my heart, a figurative coronary about to steal my breath.

Esme was the first to appear, so silently; her choked cries echoed in the high ceilings. She gripped me tight as I felt more arms encircle me. I started sobbing into Esme's hair, my knees weakened with the enormity of this reunion. Carlisle took me in his arms, brushing my hair down my back; he felt as paternal to me as my real father. I gripped his sweater, refusing to let go before I had forgotten everything I'd done wrong to this person.

Jasper didn't aid the atmosphere with his power; I knew he'd want to let us feel everything we wanted. Why pretend the pain wasn't there? I wanted to feel, so I knew I was still real. He was also distracted by the strange Vampire off to the side. William.

I was transferred from my father's arms, to my brother Jasper's. Alice was too impatient to wait her turn, so she wedged herself in between us. I let out a small laugh of bittersweet relief. I thought I'd feel differently, facing my family again. I thought I'd be more ashamed. But their welcoming had me rethinking my feelings. A blood curdling scream shattered whatever warm sanctity I had left in my mind.

I felt naked and numb.

Silence was thrown over the house, a thick cloak of dreadful awareness.

I heard the clock on the wall ticking, it taunted me. Finally, I found my voice, lost in the forest of internal conflict.

"What was that?" I asked, already working it out.

"Bella." Alice answered.

Jacob started climbing the stairs while I looked over at William standing awkwardly in the corner. His eyes were lost, almost accusatory, like he was thinking, 'You found a new family instead of coming back to ours.'

I gave him a sad smile, and reached for his hand as Jasper calmly addressed Jake who was almost out of sight.

"He won't let you near her; the transformation isn't complete."

I distinctly heard an expletive being muttered under his breath.

"She's not dead." I breathed, almost excitedly.

"No," Carlisle answered. "She was close, though—did Jacob tell you?" he asked quizzically.

I shook my head; I had a lot to explain.

William's hand shook in mine. I found it bizarre how human we were both acting. Not when we'd been Vampires longer than we'd been human.

"And who is this?" Alice pointed out the elephant in the room.

I breathed deeply, my body was so lethargic and damaged. I was healing, but I wasn't invincible. I wasn't beyond death anymore, or perhaps even illness. My bones creaked with exertion and use, I wondered if my body would deteriorate in line with how old I actually was. Humans rarely lived into their hundreds. What if I became a desiccated form of myself? I dry skeleton of a million moments.

"This is William. He was turned in 1956. He's my brother."

Four vampires looked at me with a mixture of shock and confusion on their faces.

* * *

Before darkness covered, I fell asleep and dreamt about Chicago.

We had visited there once, in the late seventies; I got married to Emmett there again, too. I chose to get married in the Spring. I never had, or even wanted a winter wedding. The snow never seemed appealing. And Emmett never seemed fussy, he always agreed to any dismally superficial show I asked him to participate in. In my dream, I wore my wedding dress, a small hollow in the ground before me. The sun was eclipsed with the moon in the sky, the air glowed amber, and Emmett appeared across the street covered in white ash.

He wore a tuxedo.

I looked back down into the hole at my feet, two golden orbs appeared in the tar. I dropped to my knees, feeling panicked. Jacob's hand, it was burnt and unrecognisable, rose from the pit to grasp my wrist. I reached for him, pulling him out of the abyss as I heard someone talking. Their voice echoed peculiarly; it was distracting me as I tried to extricate Jake from the ground. I grunted with annoyance, Jacob's hand disappeared. I cried.

My hand swung out, impacting warm skin. Jacob grunted, grabbing my hand as I sat up in shock. I was lying in bed, Jacob's arm across my lap. I brought my hand to my head.

"Bella's been quiet for a while; do you think she's okay?"

Jacob sighed loudly, a tired growl of resignation. He propped himself up on his elbow to look at me as I covered my chest with my hand.

"I saw her earlier, Edward's being a dick, but he's taking care of her. There's nothing to worry about, apparently, they said she's transforming quicker, and more quietly than anyone they've ever witnessed."

I slid back down so I was lying flat. Jacob lifted his leg and put it over mine, sneaking it between my thighs. I exhaled; realising how much I'd missed Jacob not just emotionally, and physically, but sexually. Unfortunately, the sex wasn't just sex. I couldn't touch him and get away with it, forget how it felt, how he smelled, how he touched me back. Every touch was scary; it forced me into overdrive, the world dulled and he was the only thing that existed.

His hand rubbed up and down my stomach, down to my hip and thigh. I brushed my fingers against his jaw bone. Such heat.

I still wore my clothes from earlier. I needed to shower. I kissed Jacob, our lips parting, just to breathe each other. I sat up.

"I need to clean up." I said softly, his hand gripping mine tightly as I tried to leave the bed.

Darkness fell; it was impossible to know the day. I planned on asking, but forgot about it quickly. I padded into the bathroom adjoining my bedroom. I heard Jacob's distinct footfalls following closely behind after a grudging heave of limbs up from the bed. It remained made and immaculate spare the shapes our bodies made on the coverlet. Curled and crumpled impressions of sleep.

I stripped, feeling his eyes appraising me from behind. I knew I wouldn't look dazzling at the moment. I wasn't entirely undead, and I knew I wasn't clean, either. His palms flattened against my shoulder blades as I reached to turn the faucets on. I was barely able to comprehend the mundane nature of taking a show in the face of previous events. But it seemed the best idea. To get clean; to rid myself of demons on the skin; century old dirt; and the bloody fingerprints of a tyrant.

I shuddered at the warmth of his hands and the heat from the spray of water. I looked over my shoulder, saw that he was still fully dressed, and turned around fully to change that. He held my hand as I stepped into the shower. I had dried blood spatters over my legs, like freckles that ran away with the water.

I just stood there for a moment, Jacob's hands roaming, touching gently. He started on my hair, taking on the task of washing me as I felt my body begin to shut down. The heat was too good; I just needed to stop for a moment, to lavish in a lover's touch, and to forget the monsters under my bed.

Soap and dirty water ran like a muddy pond down the drain. Suddenly, the water stopped and Jacob hopped out from behind me. I stepped into his arms as he held a towel out for me. I took a moment to look up at him, in the eyes.

"You're so young," I mused.

His eyes sparkled. I detected a hint of cheer, or cheekiness.

It was calming to see not all hope for happiness was lost in him, such a young but wise soul. I'd hate to see it tarnished because of me, and this cursed life he lead. I curled my fingers behind his head, feeling the wet spikes of his hair poke out from his nape. I rubbed the wiry strands between my fingers and pulled his mouth close to mine. Our lips met, our breathing heavier until the suspense was encroaching on torture. I finally touched mine to his, parting them to suck his bottom lip. His tongue slowly entered my mouth, rubbing against mine, begging for reciprocation. The towel fell from beneath my arms and I was drowning on dry land.

His body was wet but hot against mine, my nipples rubbing against his taught chest as his fingers sunk into my damp hair.

He hoisted me up into his arms, carrying me back into the bedroom, lowering me back onto the bed. He kneeled between my legs, leaning forward to kiss me again, my chin, my collar bone and down my belly. His tongue flicked out against my clit. I'm not sure he knew what he was doing, but I didn't dare try to stop him from exploring. He opened his mouth and I moaned lightly, his answering hum doing magical things to me down there. His tongue circled me teasingly and I let out a groan as he lifted his head, crawling back up my body, cupping my cheek. He worshipped.

I ran my hands down his chest, feeling his muscles clench under my touch. Finger tips made fiery trails.

I bent my knees, pressing my feet flat against the mattress as he hooked his arms beneath my legs, pulling my hips towards his.

We groaned in unison as he slid inside, filling me, thrusting in me. Water droplets fell around me, shaken from his body like rain. I moved with him.

My breathing hitched pleasurably, and my nails dug into his shoulders, refusing to break contact.

His heart thrummed, and I was glad to be able to hear it. I rested my head against his chest, falling back asleep to the melody of his soul.

It was a gift to dream. I just didn't know when it was real, and when it wasn't.

I dreamt I was back in Rochester. I'd been all over the world. It was pitifully depressing that I would dream of the places I'd rather escape.

I turned to face Royce. His body was contorted unnaturally, his jaw hanging grotesquely from his bludgeoned skull. Our bodies shook in the wind, the snow blundering over our standing corpses. I felt like he was addressing me.

He began to heal, turn back to normal. He then ignored me, as if I wasn't there. I was in a room, watching Royce talk to Aro. Everything became sharper, more explicit, more sharp. I sucked in a breath…

"Now." Royce bellowed.

I looked around, I was in a forest landscape, the Olympic range. I'd been past this place while hunting. I had a feeling I wasn't dreaming anymore. I felt that suction around my abdomen, a pulling force, and I wasn't in bed anymore. I stared at the line of Volturi soldiers standing uniformly, a front line of offence. Aro stepped forward with Royce.

"You know what to do." He addressed his guards.

He turned, pointing.

I turned, following his gaze and point of attack. I saw the back of our house.

I gasped, falling back into my body. I sat straight up in bed, scaring Jacob in the process. I stared into the darkened silence of my bedroom. The moonlight shimmered, unhindered. I waited, and stared at the window. I sighed and relaxed.

I had been dreaming.

"What's wrong?" Jacob stressed, gripping my hand.

I let out a long breath.

"Nothing." I smiled apologetically.

Then the window shattered with extraordinary force.


	21. Shadow of Death

Essenza Del Lupo~

_Lots of Florence and the Machine music muses. Hope you enjoy!_

* * *

Glass shimmered in the night, like a broken pond under the moon.

The window pane fell together and apart, spreading shards over the carpet of my bedroom. The glass beaded and rolled; synched with the screeches ensuing from Jacob as he transformed.

A lone vampire stood in the emptiness of the window, teeth bared, legs apart and arms straight.

I didn't recognise him.

The window had been a floor to ceiling pane of glass; the empty square framed the intruder.

I was frozen in my shocked stance, like I had vines curling around my calves, rooting me to the spot.

Jacob, of course, attacked. The stranger ducked and weaved, so quick that Jake overcorrected his manoeuvre, sliding across the floor and stumbling out the window.

I shrieked his name instinctually, despite knowing he'd probably come out of the fall unscathed.

My hand was stretched out in an absurd gesture, as if I could physically stop Jake from falling. The vampire grasped my arm with his. A bizarre desire to fight back gripped me as I gazed into the reddened irises of my assailant. His lack of body temperature seemed to sink into my skin, ice slithered uneasily through my blood.

I thrust my elbow into his nose; my strength appeared to be closer to supernatural than human.

I was still stronger than an average person. Hopefully, I had the advantage of surprise. His head flicked back unnaturally, the sound of his bones cracking split the silence. I had seconds before he got the upper hand.

I watched as his head grotesquely swung back into place, his internal structure healing rapidly. His knuckles wrapped across my face with a harsh slap. I immediately righted myself, despite the agony that struck me. My speed, still unhindered by my condition, helped me spin around in his grasp, till I was standing behind him, bending his arm unnaturally so he let go. I struck my foot between his legs, then my elbow between his shoulder blades, forcing him onto his knees before me. Light seeped through the crack under the door, growing brighter within a split second. I smelled something burning, my eyes focused on the vampire as the sound of splintering wood was all I could hear. The door blew inwards, casting a rectangle of illumination onto the floor. I had my arm around the vampire's neck, his chin in the crease of my elbow as I prepared to tear his head from his shoulders. Stone ligaments, frozen muscle and concrete bone. I felt myself strain to finish the job before William provided the offender with a kick under the jaw, his head quickly detaching and rolling between my legs. Fissures ran from the point of severance, down the vampire's neck as it thudded limply to my feet.

William was at my side, grabbing my hand.

"Just wait," I whispered, grabbing a pair of jeans off of the floor and pulling them on.

I groped in my jaw for a t-shirt and pulled it over my head as I followed my brother into the hall and down the stairs.

I could sense it already.

"Where is everyone?" I demanded of William.

His face, concentrated and hard, showed no sign of hearing me.

"What the hell is going on?" I shouted, frustration rising quickly in the midst of my impromptu attack.

William led me to the back door that opened into the yard outside. Pushing it open, he broke into a run; I followed suit.

The forest was a dense wall, white shapes moving through it like marble ghosts.

Screams.

I stopped suddenly, stumbling to a halt on the uneven forest ground. Stones bounced away at the disturbance of my feet.

"Alice!" I cried, sick to my stomach.

They had come for me. That's the only conclusion I could come to.

I heard my sister wail with terror; my heart, it's fluttering beat felt ineffective as my blood thudded heavily, no air, no air!

William appeared out of nowhere, his speed was superior to mine; his hands closed over the tops of my arms in a restraint instead of a comfort.

"You can't help them. We have to leave." He said evenly, under the shadows that covered us.

I pulled away from him, towards the direction of Alice's desperate cries.

"I'm coming, Alice!" I shrieked, my voice cracking under the lead weight of emotion.

I ran at full speed through the dark, dodging the abrasive bark of thousand year old trees, rustling leaves in my wake. William's stone body slammed into me, his arms wrapping around my waist like a vice to keep me still.

"Let go!" I screamed.

"I want to keep you safe!" He shouted back, and although I couldn't see his face, I knew it was breaking with an ancient fear.

"You don't owe me anything, Will!" I spat angrily. "You wasted your life on me. I never wanted that for you!" I struggled from his grasp, wheeling around.

I saw my battered face in the reflection of his eyes. Today, he wasn't the middle-aged Vampire with a keen, destructive power. He was the young man who had lost his sister too long ago.

"But I love you for it—you've done it all, you've kept me safe. The only thing you can do for me now, is help me save _my_ sister. If you lived it all again, you wouldn't let anyone stop you from looking for me, would you?"

He closed his eyes, his head lowering. I took it as an acquiesce.

"ALICE!" I screeched, searching the ground, the trees, the spaces of moonlight.

I approached a clearing without knowing it; the density of trees broke suddenly and I stumbled into a bare patch of wide, expansive grass and shrubbery.

I heard the slam of bodies and the screech of tearing Vampire flesh. Screams of pain issued from all around me. A creek ran peacefully at the bottom of a trench beside the clearing, a serene contrast to the chaos on dry land.

I scanned the area, unable to tell which side was which.

I saw a flicker of dark spiky hair out of the corner of my eye. A hand grabbed me at the wrist and pulled me to the left where Alice was crouched.

"It's Jane. She's inside my head, Rosalie," she sobbed. "I can't get to Jasper. I can't protect him when she's waiting to ambush me. I can't-I can't-" Alice was in tatters.

I'd never seen such a collected woman fall into this spectacular mess before now.

"She's keeping me away from the rest of them." She hissed, her golden eyes sparkling furiously.

"What are you talking about?" I prompted, wary of the empty woods around us.

Looking around, she explained to me, "Bella's power, it's like a mental shield. The rest of the family are in the fray, where Bella is. They're mentally protected. I broke from the group and Jane is hunting me, attacking me with her power before I can reach them to help them."

"The wolves?" I suddenly felt my stomach drop and my already racing heart beat started thundering ten-fold.

"They're here." She said, pulling me further into the trees, so we could move around the edge of the clearing.

"What happened to your face?" she asked off-hand.

"Vampire got a piece of me. But William and I finished him off. I'm okay to fight." I said, ignoring her incredulous look.

"It's harder for the rest of us to get killed, Rose. You can break bones by tripping over; you've replaced Bella as the liability."

I glared at nothing because of her words.

"They don't want to kill me, Alice. They just want to take me, so stop worrying about me and start thinking of how to win this." I snapped back, grabbing her cold hand and back tracking to where we were hiding before.

"Edward!" I burst out in shock as he fell to the ground, Felix's hand around his throat.

Before I could move an inch, Bella, fierce and beautiful, closed her mouth around the giant's neck, his hands moving behind his head, leaving him vulnerable for Edward to tear his torso apart.

I covered my mouth with my hand.

"You let your family fight for you, without even showing your face?" Jane's tinkling voice resounded from behind me.

Alice rounded and attacked, Jane's offensive was her power and never her strength. Alice crumpled to the ground without being touched. A slow growl grew into a blood-curdling scream torn from Alice's lips, her fingers scratching down her face.

"Stop!" I cried, "I'll go with you. Leave her be. Stop this fight and I'll go back to Volterra with you." I said, coming closer to her.

Her eyes left Alice and the screaming ceased. Her delicate, child-like hand closed over my arm above my elbow. Jasper broke through the line of trees, his hand shoved violently into Jane's face, throwing her small body back, falling yards away before she rolled into a crouch.

I ran into the clearing to get Bella, so she could protect Alice and Jasper while they killed Jane. Something hit me from the right side, pushing me to the ground. I rolled on top of them, pinning them beneath me momentarily.

"Victoria," I spat viciously.

Her arms wrapped behind my neck and she overpowered me.

I was on my back again and winded as she straddled my waist, her fingers like talons as she raked them across my chest, her head bowing towards my neck.

The searing of Vampire venom had me hurdling into unconsciousness.

I heard a sickening thud as someone's fist collided with Victoria's spine, her body was like dead weight on top of me until someone dragged her off me.

I was on the edge as a large figure wiped their mouth delicately under her jaw, as easily as running a knife through water.

"Emmett!" I breathed in wonder and surprise.

His small, mischievous smirk brought me back from the brink of passing out. He lifted me from the ground and I reached up to kiss him.

He then ran to continue fighting. For it was not desire that drove me to kiss him one last time, but the love I still had in my heart for a man that showed me nothing but.

I shuddered with shame as I realised he'd come to fight for us, despite my betrayal. I ran in his wake, searching for the mane of mahogany hair that belonged to my new sister.

"Bella!" I cried. "Bella!"

She whipped her head around, her eyes meeting mine instantly as she dispatched another Volturi guard.

"Alice and Jasper need your protection from Jane!" I shouted urgently, running towards her as if that would make the message seem more pertinent.

"Look out!" I heard someone yell. Carlisle?

I was lifted, and thrown with the strength of at least two vampires.

One was Aro, I realised as I was hurled through the air, falling hard onto the sloping ground outside the clearing. I slid down the mud and into the ice water of the creek, rocks and mossy boulders battered my body as I finally came to a halt.

Water streamed over me, as I struggled to sit up.

Distantly, I saw the tall, glowing licks of a fire in the clearing.

I could barely move as I waited for death in the creek bed. A gentle nudge and my head fell under the shallow depths of the clear water. A hand to my neck and the air rushed out of me, rising in bubbles to the surface. The _thump-thump_ of my dying heart provided a morbid melody to this scene. The rushing water roared in my ears. I could imagine death being loud. But it was quiet.

Outside of my world, there would only be a man with his hand under the water, the slight splash of a body beneath him, struggling for power and failing. You would hear the night and nothing else.

I watched through the wavy crystal glass, the blurred face of the Volturi leader. His blackened face—courtesy of William—seemed to crumble as his expression moved.

I had almost been killed once. That man killed me out of a power hunger. Not power for money, power for supremacy over another person. I was about to die because this man wanted the power that my death brought. But I didn't understand. If I was such a rare Vampire, my gift incredibly uncommon—then why kill me?

Light burst in the dark. I hadn't realised I'd closed my eyes, but my eyelids were pink with the amount of light that was in front of them.

I had a feeling that if I opened them, I'd be blinded.

Water fell away from me, tumbling in rivers down my face. I felt warm hands and arms encircling me, dragging me away from the cold. My eyes flew open, my stomach contracting as I spewed out the water blocking my airway.

A sharp thump to my back made me aware that I'd been saved. I watched through bleary eyes as William sat down in front of me, hands still glowing. I looked down at the creek, as if I could see myself, pale and peaceful beneath the mirror surface.

The last of the water dribbled from my mouth as I coughed. A bizarre, black dust blew across the water and stuck to my skin. At first I thought it was dirt, but when it smeared over my wet skin like ash, I realised it was dead Vampire.

Jacob turned me around to face him. He was naked, just having phased to revive me. His hands closed gently over my cheeks, his face old and bare.

His expression was creased with torture.

"I'm so sorry," my face fell into the crook of his neck.

I was healing, but slowly.

His hand cradled the back of my head, as he soothed me with quiet murmurs.

"You shouldn't be here." He admonished me, pulling my face back to look at me, his mouth tight with anger and fear.

"I'd say the same for you but that's not going to make you leave, now is it?" I said.

"Less than two hours ago, we were together, and safe, and warm…" water dripped from his mouth, streaking the thick grime of ash on his skin.

His body painted with the dusty shadow of death.

"I have to go back and help." He said suddenly, eyes torn but yearning to defend.

"I'd do anything to keep you safe."

"I love you." I ground out quickly, afraid of what saying this might mean.

"I love you more." His body shuddered, rippling with the transformation.

I backed away, having regained my strength, breaking into a run to get back to the clearing before I was ambushed again in the shrouded trees.

I noticed with a keen shock that there were vampires here who weren't a part of my family. They weren't Cullens, but they were dismantling Volturi members, destroying their gargoyle remains and throwing them on the tall pyre.

We had more allies than I thought. I spotted Esme having trouble with two guards, a tall blonde vampire, and a shorter one with dark hair and a strange hue to his skin. It was as if he'd had an olive complexion when he was human. I could tell he was a fairly new Vampire. His skills were sloppy, and Esme was about to wipe the floor with him.

I ran behind them, catching her eye and grasping the blonde Vampire's arms, wrenching them backwards to a plethora of curses as I tore them from his body, kicking him to the ground as Carlisle intervened to finish destroying the body.

My parents stopped for a moment, sharing a look of adoration, and what I detected as pride. However misguided I thought that sentiment may be, I still felt my heart warm at their blind admiration of me, their daughter. However distant in biological relation we may be, we were undeniably blood bonded. By what makes a family in essence, and through the way in which we entered this second life. Edward, Esme and I shared Carlisle's venom.

I saw large dark wolves raise their heads to the moon, howling, a message to the night. I heard their fierce growls, their ingrained animalistic blood thirst. I hated that more of them may die for me; what did they owe me?

And as much as I was grateful, what did they really owe my family?

I may have received my answer as I saw nightmare incarnate get his arms around a smaller wolf. I had a feeling it was Seth Clearwater, Leah's little brother. Royce was going to kill him. I could hear the shudder inducing yelp of pain.

Edward sprung into action, shoving Seth out of the way as the little wolf huffed and limped off to the sideline.

Carlisle and Esme grew distracted with the last of the guard that tried to attack. They whipped past me, leaving me behind, in the deserted middle ground, staring at my demon and my brothers.

Edward chased Royce further into the trees, blocking my view. I followed hastily, meeting their presence within seconds.

I found William standing off to Royce's left as Edward forced him down to his knees, his eyes shocked and cowardly. I could see them scanning for an escape. He wasn't a fighter, not even for his own cause. He'd pick the winning side, even if it was the opposite to his.

I went to Edward's side, moving to look down into Royce's eyes. I wanted to do it.

I took a small step to my right, spreading my legs, pulling my hand back and letting it swing forward with all the force still left in me. My hand contacted the side of his head, his eyes on mine—

"Please—", his lip trembling as I stared at him plainly.

I felt his skull rattle and loosen from his spine, the rock hard tissue coming apart, crumbling like rubble and thudding dully onto the earth, spindled with weaving roots.

Edward bent down to pick up the pieces of stone clothed in traitorous skin. I turned away, no longer burdened by that.

We strolled, almost leisurely, back to the clearing. I saw friends of Carlisle's help the wolves in retrieving their injured from the surrounding woods. Eleazer, Carmen…Tanya?

Edward let the limbs topple into the orange blaze, the smoke lifting into the sky, a purplish tinge to the pungent cloud of burning death.

The fire glowed against Edward's skin as he stared into it. I heard something approach, expecting Jacob and getting a Volturi guard, the last one alive. He looked rabid, but frightened. He charged, and I expected him to aim at me. But he wasn't looking for a target, just someone to take down with him.

"EDWARD!" I screamed.

His speed allowed him to duck and weave out of the way. The strange Vampire slowed to a stop until another slammed into him, the fire engulfing both.

It happened so fast, I didn't even have time to stop him.


	22. Soul of the Warrior

Essenza Del Lupo~ The Final Chapter

_**Youtube: Moby- My Weakness and play on repeat throughout this chapter and the epilogue**. This is a must. This is how I intended it to be read and absorbed when I wrote this, about six months ago. This is it, guys. I know I've been a shitty writer. But, life gets in the way. I just want to say thank you to everyone who gave this story a chance and took the time to tell me what they thought, what they liked, and what they hated (ROYCE!). I'll be posting an alternate ending (something I wrote after this version of the ending) after I post the epilogue (which is incredibly short). I just cut it into two parts for dramatic effect._

_ENJOY!_

* * *

"Will!" I screeched. "WILL! WILLIAM, NO!" I shrieked to nobody.

He was already dead. Disintegrated like thin paper on a candle.

"My baby brother," I whispered to nobody, letting the ground rise up to meet my hands and knees.

I crouched there in the dreaded grass, strewn with bits of rock, blood, and phantom dust.

I felt Edward's hand on my shoulder.

"No. Go find the others. Quickly. Make sure they're okay." I ordered him sharply, wiping my sweaty palm under my nose and eyes.

He left hesitantly, his feet making no noise to my ears.

I could feel the exhaustion taking over my body. The blood seeping from wounds that covered me. My healing was getting slower and slower.

I had a feeling I'd no longer have this strength, either. But nothing gushed blood more than the wound that Will left on me. I could no longer feel the earth beneath me, disintegrating at my touch, swallowing me whole in merciless debris.

I stopped fighting as I watched the pyre burn incessantly, my blood lying middle aged yet undead in the flames. My flesh, my brother.

I felt words form in my mouth, but realised I had no ability to say them aloud. Who gave me the right to voice pain? What gave me the power, the life, to even _feel_ anything. Why was _I _alive? My sweet William, what law of Godly order could take him from me?

I'd finally seen his light again, his brotherly adoration, a slim, wise soul, ghosting plains of this earth in search of me. Devoted to finding me, to finding my killer; he was more human now, than I have ever been.

His soul was safe now; free to roam, released, happy, and whole. The pain was so fresh, and so raw that for a second I wished I didn't love him.

If I stayed completely still, my eyes burning from the heat of the fire, I could almost see his spirit rising among the embers, a bluish, silvery apparition, wrapped delicately on the air I breathed, reaching high, forgetting the horrible world from which he departed. A warm hand was placed on my back, another held out in front of me in offering. I took his hand, my life line, my safety, my reprieve.

I turned around to face Jacob, collapsing into his arms as I felt my breath escape me, my life in tatters again. He was in a shirt and jeans.

"I lost my baby brother," I whispered, pressing my face into his chest.

His hand stroked down my hair, smoothing over my back and rubbing against my skin; the sensation like an antidote to this depressive spiral.

As William's death was beheld in front of my eyes, my future and my only love stood steadfast behind me with a promise to keep the world from crumbling.

"I saved him once, only to eventually condemn him to this life." I shook Jacob's hold off of me, as I approached the golden flames engulfing whatever shred I had left of my human life.

"He chose this life, Rosalie." Jacob's soft whisper sounded in my ear, as I winced. "He chose it because he chose you. He knew that you were important enough. He never lost hope, and look what he found, in the least likely of places. He accomplished that which he thought he'd failed when you disappeared, when you left him. He saved you."

My face crumpled as I stared, his body already in a pit of ash, lost to the world the moment the fire touched his skin.

"But what good does it do, to perpetuate a goal of denial? He should have given up years ago, then he could have had a real life." I muttered bitterly at the sparks spitting, landing on the grass and leaving brownish dots.

Jacob kneeled down beside me, and I followed his movement.

"Maybe you're right." He mused.

I looked sidelong at him.

"But don't ignore the fact that you also wanted to be found. And you would have done the same if it was him who was lost, you're both too stubborn not to."

A laugh bubbled in between my lips, a half giggle, half whimper. With a small amount of words formed by the man at my side, I could agree, and accept what he believed.

That's not to say I liked it, not to say I wouldn't be burdened with the guilt forever, but I had a semblance of closure, and I had an eternity to come to terms with it.

I could have spent another century dwelling on this; but I knew with stirring certainty that Jacob's presence and peace of mind would never allow for that. I also understood that with Jacob, I could also stand on my own two feet.

I stood up by myself, weak, and exhausted as I was.

He understood in that moment not to protest.

I wiped my tears away, and we both walked away from the inferno; a blistering end to our unfathomable beginning.

~0~

I knew Jacob was following behind me. I crossed the scents of our Vampire allies; they'd either fled or been killed.

The very souls that were worth saving had sacrificed themselves for me.

I truly saw the beauty in humanity, alongside the crippling guilt and agony that accompanied it.

As I approached my family, I couldn't help but smile at them. It was weary, and reserved, but it was too hard not to express my relief and happiness that this was over.

We'd fought, and triumphed.

I felt like an olden-day woman, fighting beside male comrades in a world war, hiding her femininity in the form of a boyish haircut, and men's clothes. I felt like a soldier.

Jacob's body heat was radiating off of his skin, and through me. I wouldn't be surprised if I was burning up, too, with the temperature he was boiling up at.

I stopped before Carlisle, who was understandably solemn, marks adorning his brilliant, scholarly face. He was covered with dirt, and grime, and most unmistakable, but not visible, a layer of grief. I looked over at Esme as Carlisle ignored my presence.

She had her hand cupping her cheek, her face screwed up in a peculiar display of sadness. These people, and their losses—I could feel their pain, but I couldn't understand why they were so quiet. They refused to make eye contact with me, and I felt I knew why—they weren't ready to deal with the consequences I'd made from being involved. It was my fault that all of this had happened, that our friends had died, that my brother had, that we'd brought this violence and these bad memories into our home, our backyard.

I nodded at them, showing my knowledge of their resentment. It was okay if they hated me, I could relate to that sentiment immensely.

No hate from them could ever compare to the self-loathe I carried right now.

"Rosalie?"...or could it?

"Rosalie." It was Bella saying my name.

I was almost shocked to see her act in such a human manner, walking slowly up to me, her hand reaching up to my shoulder.

She looked rather the same as a vampire, I mused internally. I was glad she made it through the transformation. At least she helped us. I suddenly realised she had been talking while I was distracted. I refocussed on her blood-red eyes, telling me something.

"...Rosalie." she whispered, pressing her lips together.

I looked down at her.

"He's dead, Rose. Jacob is dead."

I frowned at her, almost amused, ready to turn my head and point out, quite obviously, that he was alive, and right behind me.

But my eyes fell on thin air; they found no purchase, no relief, no Jacob Black.

My smile fell slowly, the sinking fear I had ignored settled deeply within as I continued searching for him.

"But he was right here..." I murmured, confused.

"I swear, he was walking right behind me, I could feel him. Right there," I pointed to the spot on the ground where I was certain he had just stood.

My hand faltered, my eyes shifting restlessly over empty space.

"Rose." Edward had returned, and walked over to stand next to me, his face carrying the very same mask as everyone else's.

As I stared at the ground, disbelieving, he wrapped his hand around my wrist.

"I'm sorry," he whispered.

"He was here," I choked. "You believe me, don't you? I mean, I saw him, I felt him—"

"I saw it happen, Rosalie. I'm sorry." He repeated, a hardened set to his jaw, a tightening in his eyes.

"No, no, no—you're lying. No—" he wrapped his arms around my shoulders, my knees buckling.

"NO!" I screamed at the top of my lungs. "NO! NO! NO!" He held on tight, holding me as Carlisle dropped down to his knees beside me, mimicking Edward's stance.

"NO!" Hot tears fell from my cheeks, onto the trampled grass and mud.

I screamed, and screeched with wretched, blood curdling sobs following each. I rocked backward and forward, both my father, and my brother holding on tight, succumbing to their own despair at my breakdown. Emmett got down on his knees, too, facing me and watching me with sturdy solemnity.

The sun was rising slowly through the trees, the heated golden morning light usually provided a brand new canvass for the day. Today, the sun shone for Jacob. I saw shadows moving before me, and the recognisable footsteps of Jasper. As he cautiously approached, saw what he held in his arms and my stomach turned despairingly, a cataclysmic cry of "No!" resounded from my lips. It didn't even sound like my voice. It sounded tired, and harsh. It sounded horrible.

I felt my heart clench and crack, heave and break like a strong tide, at the sight of death on my lover's face. He'd been wrapped in a blanket, covered with false security. His face was still damp and grimy, his eyes closed, eye lashes casting shadows across the sharp angle of his russet cheeks.

I saw the end that day.

My hands shook as he lowered Jacob to the ground before me, he'd phased back into his human form once he'd passed, something I never even thought would happen. His hair was covered with the black ash that fell around us like rain. He barely looked injured at all; but I wouldn't be able to look under the blanket at what it could be hiding. I could sense, instead of looking, that everyone's faces were etched with sympathy for me and their fallen comrade.

He truly was one of our own.

"I didn't even notice he was gone." I whispered.

My words were lost in the wind that carried him away.

He fought like we all did, losing his life, but winning the battle, with no-one the wiser. A silent warrior.

"It should have been me." I whimpered.

What was this indescribable agony inside? This feeling of unimaginable dread. Nothing seemed right; everything seemed a dream.

My hand closed over his chest, to where I knew his heart once beat steadily. Carlisle and Edward never released me, even as my voice raised from silent whispers to keening wails, my eyes staying on Jake's body, his kind face and the courageous mind beyond. His skin was still soft and warm. I wanted to curl up next to him, find a field and lie in the sun forever.

They say you feel numb; I don't.

I wish I did.

~0~


	23. Epilogue

Epilogue: Essenza Del Lupo~

* * *

"Female; about eighty-five, to ninety years old. Known to have suffered from Ventricular Tachycardia—we found her in her house, alone, and in bed. She must have slipped away in her sleep. No pain suffered at all, hopefully." The EMT addressed me.

I nodded cordially, and he left me to examine the body of the deceased woman. I sighed, looking over the chart that the emergency staff had begun to fill out.

"Any name?" I called out to his retreating form.

I unzipped the body bag swiftly, undeterred by the inefficiency of human weakness and unco-ordination. I deftly pulled the heavy canvass fabric away, and then unzipped the top of the plastic. I, myself, have never been surprised, or very rarely so.

I feel shock when I discover something new.

But as of now, I found the most surprising thing in my life, is something I knew was going to happen anyway.

"Uh, a Miss Rosalie Hale, I believe." He told me, holding out his notepad that he'd retrieved from his pocket.

"What?" I looked up, startled.

My hand paused above her face in disbelief, hesitating before shakily resting on the plastic beside her shoulder.

I stared at my daughter, blonde wavy hair curling over her frail shoulders. Her face was withered and very unlike the Rosalie who'd left home to live out the rest of her solitary, mortal life.

She no longer resembled the young woman I'd saved from the streets of Rochester, New York in 1933. I touched my child's cheek.

"Doctor Cullen?" I heard him call my name, breaking me from my reverie.

"Uh, yes?" I replied weakly.

"You won't have to notify any next of kin; apparently she was her only family." He smiled grimly and walked away.

My eyes strayed back to her.

She had family. She would always have a family.

And now that she was gone, she'd know this again. I kneeled beside her, touching her hair lightly as I remembered where she would be going right now, meeting with the young man who's connection granted her mortality.

I registered her lips, upturned at the ends, creased with years of life achieved in only months. She looked as if she had been smiling. Perhaps she knew she was leaving this world.

I looked up, past the ceiling of the morgue, past the roof, past the clouds and into the beyond where only souls reside.

~0~

"Hey there, blondie." His voice, young, and exuberant woke me up.

"You're finally here." He smiled joyfully.

I looked down at myself, unsure of what I saw, of where I was.

I knew for certain I was dead.

"Jacob." I grinned, realising I'd made it back to him.

He looked so much the same, but so different. His face wasn't weathered with a thousand ages. His skin glowed and his smile was wide. His brown eyes followed my movements, burrowing down into me as I felt my mouth tug up in the corners.

"Rosalie." He whispered back, taking my hand.

Our hands entwined; and I felt warmth bounce between our palms. I held them up between us.

"Where are we?" I asked.

"Does it matter?" he challenged playfully.

"Not really." I answered back with a shrug. "I suppose I'm surprised I got this far, to an afterlife. I wasn't sure one even existed for people who hadn't lost their souls."

"You were never worried about losing your soul, Rosalie. You worried about being human." He murmured, brushing his fingertips over my cheekbone.

"Well, I'm not. That's why I'm surprised to be here, wherever we are." I explained.

"Being human doesn't mean being able to breathe, and cry and bleed, Rose. Being human means you can feel. You've been human since the day you felt pain, guilt; you were human when you loved something...someone."

His warm hand glided across my cheek, his lips meeting mine.


	24. Alternate Ending: No Good Deed

Alternate Ending (the one I would have posted if I had pussied out of posting the real ending).

Enjoy, my pretties. That is, if you're still alive out there. I know this place is practically a ghost town.

* * *

"Will!" I screeched. "WILL! WILLIAM, NO!" I shrieked to nobody.

He was already dead. Disintegrated like thin paper on a candle.

"My baby brother," I whispered to nobody, letting the ground rise up to meet my hands and knees.

I crouched there in the dreaded grass, strewn with bits of rock, blood, and phantom dust.

I felt Edward's hand on my shoulder.

"No. Go find the others. Quickly. Make sure they're okay." I ordered him sharply, wiping my sweaty palm under my nose and eyes.

He left hesitantly, his feet making no noise to my ears.

I could feel the exhaustion taking over my body. The blood seeping from wounds that covered me. My healing was getting slower and slower.

I had a feeling I'd no longer have this strength, either. But nothing gushed blood more than the wound that Will left on me. I could no longer feel the earth beneath me, disintegrating at my touch, swallowing me whole in merciless debris.

I stopped fighting as I watched the pyre burn incessantly, my blood lying middle aged yet undead in the flames. My flesh, my brother.

I felt words form in my mouth, but realised I had no ability to say them aloud. Who gave me the right to voice pain? What gave me the power, the life, to even feel anything. Why was I alive? My sweet William, what law of Godly order could take him from me?

I'd finally seen his light again, his brotherly adoration, a slim, wise soul, ghosting plains of this earth in search of me. Devoted to finding me, to finding my killer; he was more human now, than I have ever been.

His soul was safe now; free to roam, released, happy, and whole. The pain was so fresh, and so raw that for a second I wished I didn't love him.

If I stayed completely still, my eyes burning from the heat of the fire, I could almost see his spirit rising among the embers, a bluish, silvery apparition, wrapped delicately on the air I breathed, reaching high, forgetting the horrible world from which he departed. A warm hand was placed on my back, another held out in front of me in offering. I took his hand, my life line, my safety, my reprieve.

I turned around to face Jacob, collapsing into his arms as I felt my breath escape me, my life in tatters again. He was in a shirt and jeans.

"I lost my baby brother," I whispered, pressing my face into his chest.

His hand stroked down my hair, smoothing over my back and rubbing against my skin; the sensation like an antidote to this depressive spiral.

As William's death was beheld in front of my eyes, my future and my only love stood steadfast behind me with a promise to keep the world from crumbling.

"I saved him once, only to eventually condemn him to this life." I shook Jacob's hold off of me, as I approached the golden flames engulfing whatever shred I had left of my human life.

"He chose this life, Rosalie." Jacob's soft whisper sounded in my ear, as I winced. "He chose it because he chose you. He knew that you were important enough. He never lost hope, and look what he found, in the least likely of places. He accomplished that which he thought he'd failed when you disappeared, when you left him. He saved you."

My face crumpled as I stared, his body already in a pit of ash, lost to the world the moment the fire touched his skin.

"But what good does it do, to perpetuate a goal of denial? He should have given up years ago, then he could have had a real life." I muttered bitterly at the sparks spitting, landing on the grass and leaving brownish dots.

Jacob kneeled down beside me, and I followed his movement.

"Maybe you're right." He mused.

I looked sidelong at him.

"But don't ignore the fact that you also wanted to be found. And you would have done the same if it was him who was lost, you're both too stubborn not to."

A laugh bubbled in between my lips, a half giggle, half whimper. With a small amount of words formed by the man at my side, I could agree, and accept what he believed.

That's not to say I liked it, not to say I wouldn't be burdened with the guilt forever, but I had a semblance of closure, and I had an eternity to come to terms with it.

I could have spent another century dwelling on this; but I knew with stirring certainty that Jacob's presence and peace of mind would never allow for that. I also understood that with Jacob, I could also stand on my own two feet.

I stood up by myself, weak, and exhausted as I was.

He understood in that moment not to protest.

I wiped my tears away, and we both walked away from the inferno; a blistering end to our unfathomable beginning.

~0~

I knew Jacob was following behind me. I crossed the scents of our Vampire allies; they'd either fled or had been killed.

The very souls that were worth saving had sacrificed themselves for me.

I truly saw the beauty in humanity, alongside the crippling guilt and agony that accompanied it.

As I approached my family, I couldn't help but smile at them. It was weary, and reserved, but it was too hard not to express my relief and happiness that this was over.

We'd fought, and triumphed.

I felt like an olden-day woman, fighting beside male comrades in a world war, hiding her femininity in the form of a boyish haircut, and men's clothes. I felt like a soldier.

Jacob's body heat was radiating off of his skin, and through me. I wouldn't be surprised if I was burning up, too, with the temperature he was boiling up at.

I stopped before Carlisle, who was understandably solemn, marks adorning his brilliant, scholarly face. He was covered with dirt, and grime, and most unmistakable, but not visible, a layer of grief. I looked over at Esme as Carlisle ignored my presence.

She had her hand cupping her cheek, her face screwed up in a peculiar display of sadness. These people, and their losses—I could feel their pain, but I couldn't understand why they were so quiet. They refused to make eye contact with me, and I felt I knew why—they weren't ready to deal with the consequences I'd made from being involved. It was my fault that all of this had happened, that our friends had died, that my brother had, that we'd brought this violence and these bad memories into our home, our backyard.

I nodded at them, showing my knowledge of their resentment. It was okay if they hated me, I could relate to that sentiment immensely.

No hate from them could ever compare to the self-loathe I carried right now.

"Rosalie?"...or could it?

"Rosalie." It was Bella saying my name.

I was almost shocked to see her act in such a human manner, walking slowly up to me, her hand reaching up to my shoulder.

She looked rather the same as a vampire, I mused internally. I was glad she made it through the transformation. At least she helped us. I suddenly realised she had been talking while I was distracted. I refocussed on her blood-red eyes, telling me something.

"...Rosalie." she whispered, pressing her lips together.

I looked down at her. "He's dead. Emmett is dead." Her lip trembled.

I stared at her, my relief transforming into an ugly haze of disbelief and anger.

"No—what?" I demanded loudly.

This is not real, only what I saw was real. How could he be dead if I didn't see it? How does anything exist when I cannot be witness to it?

My eyes caught the unmistakable blaze of a pyre in the clearing, bodies of our defeated toppling down from the peak, disintegrating into ash, a shimmer of life disappearing into the atmosphere above our heads, sinking into our blood as printed memories.

Perfectly, in a world where our lovely souls were safe from the sparring of good versus evil, and we remained intact, ingrained, alive; Emmett would still be here. I could have been there for him, given myself, my heart. I could have died in his place, given him _an ounce_ of what he'd given me. He'd offered me his entire life, his whole being, and I couldn't take it, or reciprocate.

He can't be dead, because I haven't said what I wanted to say.

So many things to say, too much unsaid; so little time to hear it, not even with the right ears to listen.

Now there would always be some part that is broken and unfinished, because one loose end was never tied, never fixed.

"No," I stared at Bella, beseeching her as if she was lying about it.

As if she would laugh, slap me on the shoulder and confess it was just a joke. In my head, I imagined the morbid chuckling, the ridiculous exhausted stammering of reproaches for being so insensitive towards me.

In my head, I saw blue clouds and the sea dark with night; it was beautiful, but impossible.

"No!" I shrieked, my eyes fixed back on that fire in the distance.

The silence was the most horrific. There was no noise, and everybody refused to speak as a stock of wails and blood curdling screams tore through me. I expected them to talk to me, to try and calm me, but they knew how it worked. They knew me better than that.

I would scream, and I would cry, and nothing could stop it.

In the silence, I wept for my husband, and quite possibly, the broken hearted wolf that agonised over my pain, refusing to let go as he stayed by my side.

I shoved my fists into the dirt, like I was heaving; my body felt like it was in self-destruct mode. It wouldn't work, it didn't want to work anymore because Emmett was dead and I didn't get to say sorry.


End file.
